View source for 9753/S.C.A.R.: Gun Shopping

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2022/01/22
|Location=Magdeburg, Germany
|Synopsis=The agents of the S.C.A.R. team head to Germany to lift a shipment of illegal coilguns that will become their standard weaponry. On-site procurement was never so entertaining.
|Cast of Characters=2964,503,947,495
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:2964|Michael Erickson (2964)}} has posed:'''<br>MAGDEBURG, GERMANY<br>23:30PM LOCAL TIME<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Magdeburg, ancient city along the river Elbe. Bastion of the Hanseatic League, it has risen from the ashes of its foundation twice in its history. Otto I, the first Holy Roman Empire, is buried here. But SHIELD isn't here for history: Magdeburg is also a center of technology and manufacturing - the perfect place for a group like the criminal tech collective, Tannhauser, to have operations. The first operation of the newly-minted Special Combat, Action, and Reconnaissance unit isn't to break up the criminal group, however; it's to liberate a truck full of the groups high-quality electromagnetic arms to use for its own purposes. For now, to prove itself (and its worth to the budget), SCAR's method of resource equipment beyond the standard SHIELD stockpile is on-site procurement only.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Michael's source is, of all things, a member of the clergy - but it wasn't his first vocation, nor is his identity his own. Herr Pfarrer Metzenberg was once a scientist based out of Berlin, and his refusal to help Tannhauser when approached cost him his wife and two children. Now with a false identity thanks in part to the alien spy, and serving at the city's great cathedral, it's Metzenberg who alerted Michael upon hearing of the group's delivery waiting to be loaded on a boat upriver to be transferred to a transport ship at Hamburg. The location is in the northern part of the city along the river, and it's there that the team now travels, in an anonymous civilian transport van brought from a lot at Berlin Brandenberg Airport. SHIELD can rig damned near anything, it seems.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Agent Steiner, one of the other fresh recruits from SHIELD's ranks and German citizen, drives the van through the nearly empty nighttime streets. In the back, Michael sits on one of the benches that line the van's interior, clad in unmarked BDUs. "All right," he says, looking between the other agents in the back as he takes a small device from a belt pouch: small and silvery, the device is the size of a small remote control and projects a vivid three-dimensional map of the area: the truck is supposed to be on the grounds of a recycling yard, essentially a collection of enormous scrap piles and earthmovers, compactor barns and the like. "So I'll reconnoiter from across the street and confirm the target's location. Agent Drew, you and Agent Tampambulos will breach the perimeter and open a spot for Agent Foster to follow - Agent Foster, you'll confirm the cargo and ensure its viability. One of you will drive once you've secured the vehicle, and we will follow. Security's not likely to be civilian, but use nonlethal methods if you're attacked. Hand to hand, please, if possible. I don't want weapons fire if we can help it."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That said, he looks about at the faces clustered around him, lit blue from the holography. "Any questions or suggestions?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:503|Angelo Tampambulos (503)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Again, dressed in the usual black sigil-free BDU's of a black bag operator, Angelo nods his head to Michael. "Be like old times." he says as he nudges Jessica with an elbow, "Well, not that old. But just.. oh you know." He adds, his confidence shifting briefly to awkwardness before he gets back on his game.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"CQC is.. as you know, something of a specialty of mine." he adds as he screws a suppressor onto the threaded barrel of his ICER pistol. "But.. one should never assume plan A is going to go flawlessly. I prefer to have a backup." he states as he gestures to the now suppressed weapon.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"But as for a suggestion, I am thinking it might do best for one of us.." he says, gesturing to Jessica and himself, "To hide in plain sight while the other slinks in through the shadows. I'd be happy to be the diversion if that helps. I could draw some small attention from the guards and help Jessica slip past."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:947|Jane Foster (947)}} has posed:'''<br>Magdeburg has the other associations for Jane, though she shakes her head. "Why do I know this city for hosting the last royal Prussian executioner? I prefer the atmospheric experiments, but instead..." She shakes her head, dressed in plain winter wear. Putting a Nobel Laureate in a SHIELD jacket really blows the purpose of her role, especially given her profile where blond thunder gods once widely worshipped in the area are involved. Best not to entertain trouble that way, though a scarf and glasses dilute how recognizable she is. <br><br>Her eyes are on the sphere and the map, noting entrances and exits to the scrapyard. "ICERs as a secondary resort, understood," she clarifies Michael's point, seeming none too bothered by the turn of affairs. When a Spider and Greek soldier act as the spear-point, big guns aren't necessary. Her trusty tablet -- which hates her touch -- sits on her lap, making for an excellent placement as she runs a series of scans. The van itself has a pair of sensors, and tapoing into general security issues isn't hard when her clearance accesses black-band satellite information that Interpol and the Bundespolizei would dearly salivate over. When your bestie is a hacker, you learn to sort through data. "Let's see what kind of perimeter they have set up and if we should expect anything untoward."<br><br>Of course they should. They're SHIELD.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:495|Jessica Drew (495)}} has posed:'''<br>"Roger that." Jessica becomes a black silhouette when she pulls her mask down over her slicked-back hair, checks the com bud is firmly seated in her ear, and pulls her night goggles down into place. With a touch, her position on the GPS map flashes into position. <br><br>"You duff," she replies and elbows Angelo in the ribs.<br><br>"Right, you're always a diversion. Then, I'm up and over the razor wire and will come in from the east. Don't let them mess up that pretty face."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:2964|Michael Erickson (2964)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"The idea is that we aren't seen at all until the truck's secured," says Michael, giving Angelo a grin. "But if it looks like the best way to go, I'll leave it to your discretion."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;By the time the van makes its way down the access road and stops across the street form the looming, fenced-in steelyard, Jane has a good picture of what's there: on the outside, the fence is plain corrugated steel over chain link, with security wire at the top - but there are regular spots around the cordon where certain electromagnetic anomalies suggest some sort of sensors there. But there's an empty spot, or at least a spot where the sensors have been installed a bit too widely, down the facing side of the enclosure and around one corner - some hundred and fifty meters from the box truck that is described in the files. That's the best place for insertion, and bonus for satellite imagery. Gold stars indeed.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"We're here," says Agent Steiner as the van halts, and Michael nods. "Right, then. Go ahead. Let's try and make this quick."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:503|Angelo Tampambulos (503)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Nodding his head, Angelo shrugs, "Hiding in plain sight is something very useful. I'll just keep it in mind. After all, Agent Drew here is all the muscle any of us would ever really need." he adds as he reaches for a windbreaker to put on over his uniform. At least black trousers and a windbreaker don't scream SECRET AGENT MAN as much as the normal uniform top might. It also helps hide the ICER bulge in its holster.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But as the van stops, he checks the exterior by looking for Jane for approval before he slips out the back door... ironically holding said door for Jessica. Some habits don't go away.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That done, he gestures for her to lead the way, and then falls in behind her. The distraction angle is backup plan number one. The ICER is number two.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:947|Jane Foster (947)}} has posed:'''<br>Everyone likes satellite imagery when Google Maps or Starkspot fail. Jane circles the dead spot with her fingertip and turns the tablet for the others to see, giving Angelo a clear view and relaying to Agent Steiner and Jess with a few taps of her finger. "You can see the layout here. Not much cover from the northwest, but sufficient." That said, she taps the earpiece into place for coordination purposes. Team Science! often stays out of harm's reach in the van, a rooftop or a carpark. <br><br>She stays in the van until the outside pair trigger their distraction, though a quick check of their surroundings via the side-scan IR and UV spectra follows up for anything unusual like a hoard of lukewarm bodies buried under a tarp or a pile of explosives fizzing in a puddle of questionable acids. These are things you learn in life.<br><br>Now comes the waiting, though she holds her shoulder to the van door and listens to the sounds of the scrapyard, the city, and things beyond. If they are immediately in mortal peril, no point in telling anyone when she knows.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:495|Jessica Drew (495)}} has posed:'''<br>Light-footed as her mutations make her, Jessica is out of the back of the van, gallantly held open for her by the other agent, without it rocking, and disappears into the night. <br><br>The HUD is set to ping when she is in position with the breach in the electro-magnetic detection perimeter. Most security scans for ground-level incursions. Logically, Jess goes up, webbing herself up the side of the building across the street, crawling the distance to the breach point. She springs to the ground, shoots a web into the breach, climbs it, and is up and over the blank spot. Then, disappears into a crevice in a pile of microwaves and fridges.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:2964|Michael Erickson (2964)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The towering heaps of scrap metal scatter most detection scheme - but unless there are sentries up in the iron, there's nobody in the area. Just a lone booth by the gates of the recycling yard, staffed by a single body.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jess is over the fence and in the yard in a matter of moments, thanks to her mutation. Michael, sitting in the back, watches from the van's open back door, making mental notation. As Angelo follows, Michael taps his earbud. &lt;&lt; Good insertion, Drew, &gt;&gt; he tells her. &lt;&lt; Now see if you can get that fence open from your side and let the others in. &gt;&gt;<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He looks to Jane, then. "Right. Go ahead, Doctor. Catch up with Tampambulous." That said he offers on channel, &lt;&lt; Tampambulous, I'm sending Jane over. &gt;&gt;<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:503|Angelo Tampambulos (503)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Nodding his head as he double taps his earbud. The universal double click of 'acknowledged' in many of the world's militaries, Angelo approaches the exterior fence nonchalantly. He can't do the leaps and climbs that Jessica can do, and he is continually amazed at her ability to do such things. But his talents lie elsewhere.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Upon arriving at the fence... his right hand is suddenly holding the Xiphos short sword that Hephaestus himself claimed was 'almost sharp enough to cut the Nemean Lion's pelt.... almost'. He smirks before making a couple quick and quiet cuts... leaving the fence flayed open wide enough for his muscular frame. And if he can fit, Jane's less... bulky form can certainly do so.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;By the time Jane arrives, the opening is ready, and the sword has been returned to its storage location. Angelo awaits inside the fence, in a bit of cover so he can observe Jane's approach, and cover her just in case.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:947|Jane Foster (947)}} has posed:'''<br>"Glad I don't need snips," Jane murmurs, almost teasing on that front. Cutting her way into a scrapyard might not be the lowest she sinks on a mission, but it comes close. Her gloves tugged and checked smother any contact she has with the tablet screen, so it goes back into her go-bag. Slinging it over her shoulder offers a solid thump before she slinks out of the van and uses the vehicle's bulk for cover upon approach. Breaking means not running, walking as a pedestrian would, purposeful and distracted.<br><br>The earbuds might just give the impression of a city-dweller listening to a podcast, headed somewhere nondescript. She doglegs, angling up the pavement until stopping to catch something small and blue that hits the ground. Seconds at most are needed to catch the rolling blue chrome ball-bearing, a swivel and several steps slipping her through the fencing. Almost immediately she pursues the erratic path to the nearest next point of cover, likely a heap of old stoves and assorted tubing from industrial and restaurant facilities. <br><br>&lt;&lt;Confirmed, Stargazer is in.&gt;&gt;<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:495|Jessica Drew (495)}} has posed:'''<br>It might be the most delicate point of the insertion. Crouched into a ball, Jessica wills herself to be indistinguishable from the pile of debris she uses to survey the area. <br><br>A blade surreally stabs through the metal fence, then slices an opening effortlessly and almost soundlessly to the normal ear. Briefly, she sees the shadow of Angelo's form in the hole before he slides into the darkness. <br><br>At Stargazer's announcement, she double taps acknowledgment and descends the pile to meet her.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:2964|Michael Erickson (2964)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&lt;&lt; Right, &gt;&gt; Michael says, regarding the scrap field one more time - his own HUD goggles tracking their progress now that he's pulled then down. &lt;&lt; Pretty sight, all of you. Now, make for the truck. Tampambulous, while they're heading that way I want you to come around and tranq the guard. Collect the slug once you've put him down, and after you'd opened the boom gate prop him up as if he'd just fallen asleep. &gt;&gt;<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The truck stands alone under a sodium lamp tethered to a tall steel pole, awash in yellowish light. Box model, like a mover might use. Or a delivery service. Dull gray paintjob, no markings. Anonymous, like their van. Waiting, now only sixty meters or so away thanks to their direction of ingress.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:503|Angelo Tampambulos (503)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Calling back to some older training and experience, and I mean OLDER... Angelo taps twice on his mic once more and observes Jane moving further inside. Once he is sure that she is quote... handed off... to Agent Drew, he nods his head and turns to creep towards the truck.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;For a larger guy.. I mean not super huge, but you know.. he moves well. His footfalls slow and sure, but not clomping down and resounding in the area. Ball of the foot first, and then the heel.. age old stealth training.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He reaches the truck and peers about the side towards the guard. Tranq... collecting the slug could take time if it falls off and goes somewhere he won't find it. So instead... he decides to go for something more old school.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He turns and moves around the truck the other way... reaching a position opposite said guard. Then he creeps down under and slowly belly-crawls towards the man's ankles. With a smirk at the irony of what he is about to do, he drives knuckles HARD into both of the man's Achilles tendons... and grabs the feet to yank the man downward before swarming out and over the body to get him into a choke hold and cut off his ability to speak.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In a few seconds, it is over and the man is dreaming of Deutsch pastries or whatnot... a triple tap on the mic reports task completed before he crawls back under the truck to await further instructions.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:947|Jane Foster (947)}} has posed:'''<br>One does not simply walk up to Truckdoor, no matter how much they might wish to. Tradecraft aside, the act of rolling her feet in a certain way keeps Jane quiet. She modulates her breathing the way endless routines with SHIELD trainers taught her, staying low to the ground and counting mentally while looking about for any signs of movement and trouble.<br><br>Her job comes last. Falling into Agent Drew's shadow comes easy, the competency of the woman even when driven mad by the Inhuman-targeting compunds never in doubt. She waits on Jess until visual contact is made, tapping her ear-comm to signal contact. The bag is shifted, strap tightened. Waiting for the right moment, she keeps to the shadows and darkness, still low and advancing onward after Jess' signal to go. Where stacks of metal provide protection, a cautious but purposeful zigzag is bound to follow.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:495|Jessica Drew (495)}} has posed:'''<br>They are in the middle of a labyrinth of trash piled into heaps, hardly the pinnacle of First World achievement but handy for creeping up on a target unaware. So, with a hand signal and a nod to Jane, they creep through the shadows, passing a heap of computer screens staring blankly into the night, next to car doors piled into rusting sandwiches.<br><br> The mic tap announces Angelo's success, Jess expected no less, having been on more than ten missions with the agent. Gesturing Jane down, Jess reconnoiters the truck sitting under the dull yellow of the sodium light. With a few deft movements, she unholsters her gun, screws on a silencer and aims for the light. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Pffft. Ping<br><br>The two agents are in darkness.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:2964|Michael Erickson (2964)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Michael did not want any kind of massed gunfire - ICERs are electromagnetic, but they also tend to make a strange noise and blue muzzle flash besides. But Tannhauser's weapons have no such flash problems, nor are they as loud. So just as Jessica snipes out the light and drenches the truck in darkness, and the half dozen drones emerge from the scrap mountains, four-rotor helicopter models with semi-auto coilguns slung to their bellies, they aren't seen at first as they begin to open up on the women crossing the field toward the waiting truck. Small darts of dense alloy with the effective stopping power of a nine-millimeter pistol round whiz through the air, thudding into the ground and spanging off junk piles. Tiny songs of death. The drones show up on IR and UV now, as will they for anyone with night-vision or just enhanced senses (or any combination of the two). Tannhauser, it appears, is ready to defend its hoard.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But they likely did not count on SHIELD.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:503|Angelo Tampambulos (503)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The sound of the coilguns firing makes Angelo react without really thinking it through. He scrambles out from under the truck, lifts his own ICER and spangs a round off of one of the drones. Why? Well simple. A large portion of his job as playing the role of the 'SHOOT ME!' guy. He is drawing attention... which succeeds once more here.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The large majority of the drones peel off to pursue him, weapons whining and firing as he turns and dashes away from the truck. This leaves one or two for the ladies to deal with as opposed to half a dozen. And Angelo is leading them on a merry chase. Getting hit now and then, but nothing serious. At worst, they will bruise him... larger and more powerful rounds might actually hurt him but... by now in his life, Angelo has grown accustomed to such pain. Almost jaded to it one might say... but the way is far more open for the ladies now.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:947|Jane Foster (947)}} has posed:'''<br>Gunfire in the telltale popping cracks can make anyone flinch. Jane certainly does, only training and prior experience keeping her from freezing up. That awful itchy ache crawling up her spine takes hold between her scapulae. &lt;&lt;Hand-to-hand against /those/?&gt;&gt; she hisses under her breath, hoping it's quiet, uncertain whether the drones might pick up the fact. &lt;&lt;Deferring to you.&gt;&gt; Dendrotoxin-stuffed rounds can stay put in the ICER under her coat, hardly the most useful of things.<br><br>One or two drones is still one too many. She doesn't stay stationary, swivelling past a heap of eyeless washer doors and those funny under-counter dryers scattered in squared LEGO blocks too low too be of any real use hiding but bogging down any direct shots on her. <br><br>Angelo's the big target, Jess the nimble one, and Jane just prefers /not/ to get shot. Or she's playing wounded bird.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:495|Jessica Drew (495)}} has posed:'''<br>Jess doesn't spend time, reprimanding herself for unleashing the dogs of war. It was a chance she took. She dodges back into place, risking a few words over coms, "Down. AT is decoy."<br><br>Night vision allows her to see the streaks of death firing tangentially on AT from above as he hares off into the twisting alleys of First-World technical triumph. Whipping her gun upward, she aims with spider reflexes at the last two of the drones intent on murdering their colleague.<br><br>Jess adds the notes of her pistol to the song of death, hearing the satisfying pang of her bullets hitting the flying menace. They are out of sight before she is confident of a kill.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:2964|Michael Erickson (2964)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Angelo is, in fact, a very good decoy; the warrior's tough hide is stung by the flechettes that the drones hurl at him, but nothing else comes of it but a shredded windbreaker and shirt, and a reddened eye where one dart struck it. But distracted as they are, the remainder are still busy with shooting at Jessica and Jane -- until, of course, the Spider-Woman opens up with her own pistol. Suppressors aren't like they are in the movies, of course, so the report of gunfire can still be heard, although it is more like a muffler popping at a distance.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Michael, of course, knows better. &lt;&lt; What's going on over there? Who's firing? &gt;&gt;<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:947|Jane Foster (947)}} has posed:'''<br>Poor windbreaker, how bravely did it serve. Its tattered remnants shall be installed with great circumstance for its valorous defense. The SHIELD clothing budget is probably in tatters. <br><br>Hopefully none of those bullets feel like coming at Jane, since she edges onward with Jess' dangerous volleys shielding her until she reaches the box truck. Ideally, anyway. If that thing aims to explode upon the door being opened is one thing. A sharp, quick glance in the driver's side from a distance gives some element of concern. &lt;&lt;Drones. At least five. Down or inactive.&gt;&gt;<br><br>A box truck, a set of doors. Back and front, how surprising? She glances sidelong to Jess, measuring a catalogue of curiosity, sensitive and wide-eyed before turning with all shades of force to the inevitable. &lt;&lt;Ready?&gt;&gt;<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:495|Jessica Drew (495)}} has posed:'''<br>There is no need to add another word to Jane's incisive precis. Jess catches her wide-eyed glance despite her upwardly focused attention, nods, and cuts the air with the knife of her hand, "Go." <br><br>Double-handed, arms out, the mutant agent holds her gun at the ready, waiting for the return of the drones, depending on her super hearing and reflexes to take them out before they can do any damage and stop their operation. <br><br>From a distance, she can still hear Angelo dodging through the refuse, even catching a grunt (with a sense of relief) when a flechette puts another hole in his windbreaker.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:2964|Michael Erickson (2964)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In the end, the drones are fragile things, and a combination of Jessica's slugs and the fast-moving ICER rounds put the deadly little toys down. Angelo reports the last target down, and Michael lets out a long breath. &lt;&lt; All right, &gt;&gt; Michael replies, &lt;&lt; Well, the police are surely on their way - get back here, Angelo. Drew, get the truck going. Doctor? Please ensure we have what we need in there. &gt;&gt;<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Once they're inside, the box truck is loaded with stacks of arms crates - and, sure enough, the desired rifles and pistols, more than enough to get the unit well-equipped, await.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:947|Jane Foster (947)}} has posed:'''<br>Two pops in the connection confirm Jane's understanding as she slips through the truck. Getting it open isn't bound to be more difficult than assessing contents. For one long, thoughtful moment, she wishes for a giant good-boy pupper wearing a bifork crown. The goodest of puppers could transport this out of here, but alas, he has already likely gone to bed or loafs around with his favourite monarch.<br><br>In the meantime, she takes quick inventory, not quite punching open boxes or tossing them around. A proper summary of the like will do. Gloves are on; no fingerprints here! &lt;&lt;We've got them. Exit stage left.&gt;&gt;<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:503|Angelo Tampambulos (503)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It's not long before a double knock on the van door followed by a double click of the comm announces Angelo's arrival where he's been ordered to go.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Once inside, it's evident that he took a few hits. His uniform has seen better days, but he has a grin on his face. That sort o grin one gets when they know they had a successful mission complete status.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I liked this windbreaker." he mutters as he climbs in.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:495|Jessica Drew (495)}} has posed:'''<br>Confident that no more drones are winging their way toward them. Jess hotfoots it to the truck's cab and climbs up behind the big angled wheel. No keys. Brilliant. She pulls down the visor, pats the seat next to her, even opens the glove compartment. Alright, a big no.<br><br> She twists herself across the gear shift, feet in the passenger seat, and fits herself under the steering column, and goes to work. Without finessing it, she pulls the ignition wires within reach and strips some of the wire bare-fingered, bioelectricity sparks blue in the cab. She squeezes herself back into place without releasing the wires, blasts the wires again with her feet on the gas pedal and the clutch. The engine rumbles to life.<br><br>&lt;"We are good to go. Ready on your go, Jane."&gt; She puts the truck into gear, no lights, depending on night-vision and GPS to see her out of the dump.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:947|Jane Foster (947)}} has posed:'''<br>Please don't trust Jane to drive the box van. While she could, it may be much better for everyone else if she does not, what with the adrenaline rush. &lt;&lt;Confirm we have visuals on the packages.&gt;&gt;<br><br>Her fingers curl and she spreads them out. Retracing her steps back to the cab only takes a second if need be, though there might not actually be room up there with Angelo in a seat. In that case, cling to a bit of mesh and hunker down. &lt;&lt;Go light on the turns.&gt;&gt; <br><br>That's gonna be fun.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:2964|Michael Erickson (2964)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And there it is. "I'll give you one of mine," Michael says as Angelo climbs in. "Real nice, vintage. Members Only." It's been hanging in his closet since 1992. He reaches out to thump Steiner's shoulder. "Let's go."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&lt;&lt; All right, ladies, very good, &gt;&gt; he then calls over comms. &lt;&lt; Follow us out and let's haul ass on the autobahn. Berlin awaits. &gt;&gt;<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And so they go, taking the short access road that leads onto the A2 leading west to Berlin - speeding in the way that all autobahn drivers do, especially at night when the traffic is so limited. In another hour they'll be at the airport, far away from Tannhauser and the polizei, swiftly loading the crates from the truck onto a waiting plane whilst SHIELD personnel in the area see to it that it - and the van - disappear.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And so does SCAR get their new service weapons. On-site procurement was ever so much fun, and the only casualty was poor Angelo's windbreaker. Later, they must pour one out for their fallen comrades, but now? The Triskelion awaits.<br> <br>
}}