Logs for ShadowRN and Associated Mailing Lists

From:	uplink 2099 <uplink@****.UNOMAHA.EDU>
Subject:	rescue
Date:	Mon, 26 Apr 1993 17:56:48 CDT

Message no. 1 >>>>>[ Hey, Harly, if ya need a pickup, I can give ya good
rates.]<<<<<
-Neil <17:48:37/04-26-54>

>>>>>[ Go ahead Neil. Just remember not to shoot him full of holes like
you do to us.]<<<<<
-Zee <17:48:53/04-26-54>

>>>>>[Hey! That was only once, and besides, Scrape shouldn't have wandered
into my line of fire like that.]<<<<<
-Neil <17:50:23/04-26-54>

>>>>>[Neil, when you're firing a Vindicator, EVERYWHERE is your line of
fire!]<<<<<
-Zee <17:50:42/04-26-54>

>>>>>[Ain't my fault if you guys can't get out of the way. Besides, now
that I've got the Vindicator II, I can make sure you ain't around
to complain about it next time.]<<<<<
-Neil <17:52:01/04-26-54>

>>>>>[Way to GO, Neil! Now everyone knows it was us who stole the damn
thing! You might as well just shoot us now, Ares isn't gonna be
that kind.]<<<<<
-Zee <17:52:09/04-26-54>

>>>>>[Oops.]<<<<<
-Neil <17:55:01/04-26-54>

From:	Colm Fahy <C384-004@*******.UCD.IE>
Subject:	Rescue
Date:	Tue, 16 Nov 1993 14:08:15 GMT

Message no. 2 *****[Encrypt tgt. Binary|Spiral|Prophet]*****
>>>>>[All right boys this is the situation, While involved in an abortive
run
against Tollier Chemicals, an associate of mine, Shades, was kidnapped by corp
agents. I have reason to believe he is still alive and need to know his current
whereabouts. I am willing to pay myself for the data. I am also authorised to
offer 5k each to an extraction team from my employer, a figure which I will add
to myself. Please contact me at once if you can be of further
assistance]>>>>>
-- Vertical <T/D Deleted>

*****[encrypt Spiral MPCP]*****
>>>>>[Spiral, anything you can find out would be very helpful. If your
friend
can help that's great. Also, you're a man of great integrity spiral, yes, one
does have a duty to ones friends. Perhaps only we elves and the Japanese truly
understand this. But I think maybe you have learned, friend Spiral]>>>>>
__ Vertical <T/D Deleted>

From:	Mike Goldberg <m_goldberg@**.COLORADO.EDU>
Subject:	Rescue?
Date:	Mon, 27 Mar 1995 13:44:03 MST

Message no. 3 >>>>>[ Hmm. I received an interesting phone call this morning. I was
delivered a large package this morning. After some reflection I have this to
say:

"SPRINKLER!! Did it ever occur to you to check certain people's reputation
before hiring them?"

But, Kor is now resting at a place under KE witness protection. In theory he
should be released from there by late tonight, and given a ride back to his
home. ]<<<<<
-- Scourge <12:40:16/3-27-56>

>>>>>[ How was I to know? He and his team were seemed capable and they
were
also planning on leaving the country.]<<<<<
-- Sprinkler <12:41:35/3-27-56>

***** Private: Scourge
>>>>>[ Did Colleen make it as well? ]<<<<<
-- Sprinkler <12:42:09/3-27-56>

***** Private: Sprinkler
>>>>>[ Yes. I'll ask for Kor's permission before I release what I think
happened. You can correct me if I screw up some of the details. If I don't
release it though, it means that Kor doesn't wish for people to know.... which
is quite understandable. In which case, you might want to pretend you are a
dry well of info on what happened. k?

Oh -- expect payment in the pre-arranged manner. It will be docked if you
speak out without Kor's consent. ]<<<<<
-- Scourge <12:45:05/3-27-56>

***** Private: Scourge
>>>>>[ Yes. ]<<<<<
-- Sprinkler <12:45:36/3-27-56>

From:	"Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject:	Rescue
Date:	Tue, 23 Dec 1997 22:53:46 +0000

Message no. 4 *****PRIVATE: Dogpatch Archive
+++++relay via tacstation "Wolf Den"
>>>>>[We got them out. Including three out of four from Team Silver.

Report's late. Weather took out Wolf Den again, and Aden-42's choked
with corporate traffic. This is three days old.

+++++begin video
Lynch's eyecam, in the dark and crowded interior of a Hercules transport
aircraft: one full of armed, uniformed men and women, in three distinct
groups.

He and those near him are in Rebels disruptive-grey gear: along the
other side of the fuselage are Canis, distinctive in his wolf's head
helmet, and his team. Further forward are Imp's squad, in their
camouflaged hardshell armour. Down the centre of the fuselage are large
cargo pallets ready to be rolled off the ramp, and the soldiers all wear
parachutes.

All are quiet, though the noise of the four turboprops would make
conversation difficult in any case.

"Ten minutes!" the loadmaster shouts, picking her way carefully down the
fuselage and repeating the call to be sure all hear. Blade nudges Quinn
awake: Lynch leans over to prod Stephanie.

Everyone seems to have their own small rituals, in the last minutes
before the drop. Lynch carefully applies his camouflage facepaint, using
a small mirror to produce what would be warpaint if the colours were not
so subdued. Lilith loads one magazine for her AK-47, carefully wiping
each dumpy 7.62mm round - subsonics, you notice - with an oiled cloth
before pushing it into place in the curved magazine. Quinn takes off her
red beret, carefully rolls it, and puts it into an inside pocket of her
jacket: replacing it with the same issue helmet others are wearing.
Stephanie watches, amused, evidently not a believer in such foolishnes.

Above the rear ramp, a red light comes on, surprisingly bright. One
minute, and the soldiers stand., clipping static lines to the rail: the
loadmaster moves past, checking each is secure, as the ramp lowers with
a hiss of hydraulics and a rush of wind. Lynch, closest to the ramp,
adjusts his submachinegun on its sling as he looks down: it's dark, and
the Yemeni landscape seems a very long way below them..

The red light flicks to flashing green, and Lynch breathes hard: five
pulses of light, and then the loadmaster's shout of "GO!" sends him out
into the dark sky, freefalling for several seconds before a jolt and a
crack overhead indicate his parafoil's opened: a glance upward confirms
this, as he grabs for the risers.

The C-130 is still spewing paratroopers, though two simply free-fall
towards the ground. "I hope they're magicians..." the mercenary mutters,
as the falling forms vanish into the darkness. Releasing a clip on his
chest, a pack drops free to hang on a long strap: Lynch steers towards a
small strobe light that has begun pulsing in the darkness. Above him,
the Hercules returns for a second pass, this time dropping the cargo
pallets.

Rangefinders are handy for judging height in the dark: the one built
into Lynch's eye tells him he's now 434 metres above the ground, closing
nicely on the strobe. As he descends, more detail can be made out, and
he adjusts his course slightly to bring him down on the flatter, sandy
ground for an easier landing.

His kitbag hits ground with a gritty crunch, and Lynch is a second
behind it: landing well and picking himself up at once, quickly
collapsing the parafoil into a tangle of drab nylon and rigging lines,
bundling it roughly back into its pack. As he works, other jumpers are
landing around him, and going through the same drills.

With the parachute dealt with, he opens the kitbag and brings out his
web gear - heavy with ammunition and water - which he buckles on, before
picking the 'chute pack up and walking towards the strobes.

A dusty figure seems to appear out of the night, carrying an Alpha.
"That you, Psycho?"

"Yeah, Chang, it's me. How's it hanging?"

The Rebel - presumably a member of the LRRP that had scouted and secured
the drop zone - falls in beside Lynch. Dusty, worn, and exhausted, the
soldier still looks to be in good spirits. "Low and left, same same
roger. Looking forward to a shower and some real food."

"Long overdue. You and your guys did real good, Chang. _Real_ good."

"Heard we lost Silver." the reconnaisance trooper says, as Lynch drops
his parachute by the strobe light, amidst a growing pile: presumably for
later collection, they're expensive items. The force is forming up
around them.

"Yeah. No information. Hopefully captured rather than dead, in which
case if we're lucky we're about to bust them loose." Lynch shrugs,
expressively.

+++++sequence edited

Imp's unit have moved off to make their attack on the small airstrip,
and V-12's borrowed drones have scattered to their duty positions:
scouting the roads to warn of reinforcement, supporting Imp, ready to
assist at the camp. Canis has led his troops around to the south of the
camp: and Lynch and his group are lying behind a ridgeline, looking down
at the prison camp in the pre-dawn twilight.

It looks like a conversion of an Army barracks, rather than a purpose-
built facility. The guard towers look much newer than the rest of the
buildings, and the fence that seperates part of the camp is noticeably
different. There seems to be no movement or activity, except a curl of
smoke from the cookhouse chimney and the purr of a generator.

"Okay." Lynch says softly. "For once we go with Plan A. All set?"

Stephanie and Quinn nod, and a moment later the group seem to vanish;
Lynch kicks in thermal and their warmth can still be seen, as Quinn says
"Anytime."

"By teams, then." Lynch, Lilith, Quinn and Blade simply stand up and
walk towards the camp, with no reaction visible from the watchtowers.
They cover the cleared killing zone without any alarm being raised, and
as Blade begins to cut a hole in the fence, the rest of the group -
Stephanie, Irish and Shadowfox - join them.

Ducking through the hole, the suppressor on the muzzle of Lynch's MP-
5PDW tracks his eyes, as he moves in short, quiet rushes from building
to building, pausing by one in particular. Like the others, it's a long,
low stone barracks: unlike the others it has heavy mesh nailed over the
windows. The door opens easily: a quick glance back shows the other team
preparing to enter a neighbouring building, similarly modified.

"Dropping the spell." Quinn says quietly once all four are inside, and
they are suddenly visible to the eye again. They're in a small anteroom,
the stout double door to the barracks barred and bolted: Quinn and Blade
remove the bar, and Blade oils the bolts before withdrawing them: Lynch
and Lilith raise their weapons (her AK with a foot-long suppressor on
the muzzle, his MP-5PDW) as Blade oils the hinges and he and Quinn pull
them back.

Inside, the room is spartan: bare walls, concrete floor, rows of triple
bunks the only furniture. Its occupants are a crowd of tattered, bruised
prisoners, and one guard: oddly, the prisoners are awake and on their
feet, and the guard shows no sign gof alarm at the intrusion.

"Forty-one here." Midnight says calmly. "Forty-six in the other
building, including the new arrivals.. That's all."

"New arrivals? Four-man team?" Lynch asks.

"Brought in two days ago in a bad way, and been getting some pretty
harsh treatment. I was able to keep the wounded one from dying."

"Outstanding." Lynch goes to radio. "Stephanie, you okay?"

"Forty-six prisoners, surprised as hell, glad to be getting out." she
replies over the link. "Any time."

"Okay." Lynch switches frequencies. "Canis, you're up." He turns back
to
the prisoners. "Another team are going to hit the guards in their
quarters. We'll cover you while that happens. Then we beat feet out of
here. Everyone okay with that?"

A chorus of general agreement, before a Rebel says "Sir? Some of us
aren't in the best of shape for a hike."

"Yeah, I know. We'll use captured mech transport as much as we can, and
our ride out's bringing a couple of trucks." The Rebel nods, and the
windows rattle to the sound of an explosion: gunfire suddenly can be
heard. Lynch moves to the door, he and his group spreading out to
protect the prisoners.
+++++end video]<<<<<
-- Lynch <22:52:34/12-23-58>

From:	"Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject:	Rescue
Date:	Tue, 23 Dec 1997 22:55:45 +0000

Message no. 5 +++++relay via tacstation "Wolf Den"
>>>>>[Akbar doesn't keep prisoners any more. Here's our part.

+++++ Begin Download: HelmetCam_003.mov
A rocky desert area. You are looking down a valley, the ground cleared -
a perfect firezone. At the bottom of the valley a square fenced camp is
visible, although no details are distinguishable due to the low
resolution. The camera sweeps to the right and left, revealing about ten
people, lying prone, in grey and ochre camouflage armor. Most of them
wear similar camouflaged backpacks, all are armed.

A faint crackle from the radio: Lynch's voice. "Canis, you're up."

"Go!" commands the camera-bearer, and two people jump up and start
running stooped toward one of the guard towers. Both are male, blonde,
and muscular built. They are just a couple of steps away, as you
suddenly have problems keeping them in view - they seem to be somewhat
obscured by something, although the air is still clear. Just because you
know where they are you can still make them out as they throw themselves
to the ground about 50 meters from the guard tower and ready their
rifles.
+++++ End Download: HelmetCam_003.mov

+++++ Begin Download: GunCam_00a.mov
Crosshairs focus on a man's nose. The young man, probably a soldier,
wears a helmet, but no visor. The distance indicator reads 49.2 meters.
A countdown runs to 0, then the rifle rocks, twice. Just as the second
round is fired, a red hole appears between the young soldier's eyes. Not
a single sound is to be heared. As the marksman jumps up and starts
running, the picture becomes too shaken to be recognizable.
+++++ End Download: GunCam_00a.mov

+++++ Begin Download: HelmetCam_007.mov
The camera catches a piece of desert, moving toward a tower. As you know
they are there, you finally manage to make out Mac and Fohdytoo who run
toward the tower, Mac readying a grey mat, Fohdytoo a large-caliber
handgun and firing a grappling hook up the tower.

"Go!" commands Canis again, and the next pair starts running, hidden in
the same way, although not as complete as the point-men. Meanwhile, Mac
has thrown the mat over the razorwire-fence and climbed it, now cutting
a hole in the steel mesh fence.

"Go!" commands Canis.
+++++ End Download: HelmetCam_007.mov

+++++ Begin Download: GunCam_012.mov
Crosshairs move through the silent camp. Nobody is visible on the ways,
the only visible heat sources are on the towers and at the prisoner's
barracks, clearly marked by bunkers and another layer of fences. As the
view passes the support pillar, you noticed the dead bodies of two dark-
skinned young soldiers taped to it at the upper arms with duct tape, so
that they appear standing.

A group of people comes into view, moving silently along the barracks
and spreading at the buildings' entrances. Suddenly whoever holds the
camera jumps over the balustrade and abseils quickly to the ground,
holding rifle and camera level.
+++++ End Download: GunCam_012.mov

+++++ Begin Download: DroneCam_00c.mov
It is dark. Suddenly something opens, and a larger-then-life elven face
appears, lifting the drone out of a backpack and setting it to the
ground. Lots of data runs through the image, among it the activation of
three more drones and the status of the on-board SMG: Ready.
+++++ End Download: DroneCam_00c.mov

+++++ Begin Download: HelmetCam_010.mov
The camera focuses on a single barrack from a position near the ground.
It's worryingly silent in the camp, the only sound the generator and
some voices, muffled by distances and walls, from one of the barracks.

There's a single clicking sound, probably from a radio set.

"Go!" commands Canis, and suddenly the flare compnsation kicks in, as
the building he's watching suddenly bursts into flames. Several
explosions rock the ground, and walls of flame cover door and windows of
the building. Screams can be heared from inside the building. "Chaos,
send Cindy!" Canis orders, and "On her way," Chaos answers. Somewhere to
the left, automatic fire erupts, answered by surprised screams.
"Chasity?" Canis asks, and "They're in as soon as the flames lower,
sweets!" comes the answer on the radio.

"Celt, go in whenever you..." a figure runs past him, followed by three
more. "...are ready." Canis sounds surprised.
+++++ End Download: HelmetCam_010.mov

+++++ Begin Download: HelmetCam_10c.mov
Running toward the flames. A burning door, some arabic symbols over the
door - the computer translation offers "officer's" as translation. The
door opens inward, someone is standing there... Three barely noticable
"plop"s in the surrounding chaos, a silenced SMG, probably, and the
bare-breasted man drops from sight. Suddenly, the flames vanish, like a
candle blown out, yet there's no wind. A katana appears before the
camera, and someone passes the camera, large, muscular, holding a
HK227S. Doing a flying roll through the door.

Following. Through the door, a hacking motion to the right, Mac is
kneeing in the corridor, gunning down two people who die while trying to
get into their uniform jacket.

A door opens, a naked arabic man appears, a pistol in his hand. He's
fast, reacts instantly, brings his gun down to aim at Mac, suddenly
there's some blue light, strange, passing the camera. Just an instant,
but the enemy is covered with it, blood pours from mouth, ears and eyes.
He drops without any sound. Magical backup is there.

Mac kicks open the door to his left, firing through it. The camera turns
to the door to the left, it is open, the room beyond empty but two beds,
a table and some lockers. Down the corridor, Mac by the side.

"One to your right." an accented female voice tells from behind - Celt
has done advance magical scouting. A gloved hand opens the door, just a
few centimeters. Someone inside is shooting, through the door. "Bye,"
whispers Orion, and rolls a handgrenade into the room. Closes the door.
It bursts open just a second later, in fragments. "Clear," states
Orion, without checking.

Two doors, and now silent rooms later, there's just the door at the end
of the corridor left. "Mess, probably," Mac assumes, "Resistance
probable." - "I take the right, Celt middle. The computer should be in
there somewhere, take care!" Orion speaks fast, ill-pronounced, "Viel
Glueck!" and kicks open the double door. Mac rolls into the room as
before, turning left, and someone behind the camera chants in a strange,
melodic language. Orion, exposed in the door, suddenly is under fire
from an arabic looking male with a SMG, and as he spins around you
assume he's been hit. Facing Celt now, you see her pointing into the
room, and the sea-blue light appears again. The shooting stops, and
Orion continues his turn, racing into the room. Another enemy, pressed
to the wall next to the door, dies as he does the hacking motion again -
this time he looks, and you see he's hit directly in the opponent's
face, cracking the skull nearly to the backbone. "Clear!" and "Clear!"
is announced behind him, and half a second later the katana's free
again, and "Clear!" Orion responds. Suddenly, a female voice behind him
starts cursing: "Damn it, there's no fucking computer in this stinking
hole. Where is the thing? I tell you, incompetent planning on the home
team or what??" Chastity's clear voice is in a strange contrast to her
rude words.

Mac answers, "Not here. we retreat." - "Yeah, you should take the drones
again," Orion adds.
+++++ End Download: HelmetCam_10c.mov

+++++ Begin Download: DroneCam_410.mov
The ammo counter of the fourth' drone indicates "0", and it retreats
from a building, past two corpses. The dead men's faces are on eye, no,
camera height for the small vehicle. When it leaves through the door,
into a large parade place, you can make out a group of four people
running away, toward a fenced-off area on the other side. Although they
are all armed, not all of them are fully dressed.

"Breakout rear, all buildings," a voice reports on radio, and another
answers, "Let 'em go." Just as you see muzzle flashes you can make out
two people on the ground, firing at the running soldiers. As through a
miracle, only one of the men is hit and drops, the other even raise
their speed. "Orion wounded, arm, operational" reports a voice on radio,
another states "they're in panic now," yet another - probably female -
sounds disapointed: "No 'puter!"

"Stop 'em!" the accoustic sensors receive, then a single person jumps to
his feet, pointing at the soldiers, yelling, "No, you will not!" The
face under the helmet changes, now it looks like the helmet - a wolf's
face, claws extend from the jacket. There's a flash of grey light,
connecting Canis' claws with the leading opponent, and from there to the
two others. As flames burst from their bodies, they scream, scream
together with the casting shaman. Bleeding, they all fall over, but only
Canis gets back to his knees after a few seconds.
+++++ End Download: DroneCam_410.mov

After that, we started to retreat from the killing zone. My shoulder
wound will be OK. We didn't keep a head count, but guess about 15 killed
ranks, slightly less officers.]<<<<<
-- Orion <22:45:36/12-23-58>

From:	jaimie.nicholson@********.otago.ac.nz (Jaimie Nicholson)
Subject:	Rescue
Date:	Tue, 4 Jun 1996 11:40:37 +1200 (NZST)

Message no. 6 *****Private: Blademaster, Phobos, Forte
>>>>>[Thanks, I owe you big time.

BTW Phoenix says she knows some Bear guy who might help me wth the Bio
toys, it can be regrown by special spells or some drek. So I'll be
available for work again in a few weeks or maybe a month or two.

I can't thank you guys enough, really.]<<<<<
-- Ronin <11:39:55/06:04:57>

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