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Mailing List Logs for ShadowRN

From: ANGLISS BRIAN EDWARD <angliss@****.Colorado.EDU>
Subject: The Immovable Object....
Date: Thu, 27 Jun 1996 23:45:03 -0600 (MDT)
>>>>>[I recieved this at about 19:21 this evening. I'll be sending it in
several sections due to it's extreme length. I think that it's VERY
important, and you'll all see why shortly.

+++++ Include Communications Transcript/Camera Download

CD: Commander Drake
SM: Sergeant Montoya
LA: Agent Long Arm
SZ: Sergeant Ziv
AH: Agent Halberd
AJ: Agent Jane
ST: Sergent Tagit
WOC - Warrant Officer Chips

+++++ The view vibrates and the background noise is high. The notation in
the corner indicates Commander Drake's helmet camera, the time and date,
and he appears to be in a helicopter with three other armed and armoured
InterPol troops.

CD: Still there?

SZ: Locked on. Motel room, laser mike says he's typing something.

CD: Astral?

HQ: Clean. The ritual team says it's a solid ID. It's him all right.

CD: Monty, you in place?

SM: In place and standing by, boss. Long Arm's spotting for me. No shot
yet, but if he comes out the back, he's out cold.

CD: Got your rifle with you?

SM: Sure thing, boss. Gel doesn't take him down, my old friend comes out.

CD: Okay. Let's get this over with. All agents, you have weapons-free
as of now. Lock and load.

+++++ All load weapons and chamber rounds. +++++

CD: Chips, run in hard and put us down fast, car park. Ziv, we have room?

SZ: Easily. LZ clear and cold. Put down in front of the green Elite.

+++++ The helicopter pitches down and accelerates, turning to a new
heading +++++

CD: One more time for my peace of mind. We land, hit his room with gas
and concussion, go in the front and get him. If he breaks out the back,
Monty drops him. Stay out of Halberd's line of fire, he's got the netgun
and that's probably our best chance of getting Lynch alive and not too
damaged. Nobody goes lethal without my order, and then aim to wound if
possible. Understood?

+++++ A chorus of 'sirs' +++++

WOC: Hold tight, guys, LZ in sight.

+++++ The view tilts abruptly, then Drake is leaning out of the door,
firing the grenade launcher under his AK-98 at a small motel room: the
grenade punches cleanly through the window. Another grenade explodes
against the door, knocking it off its hinges, as Drake advances and takes
cover behind the green Elite, firing a second and third gas grenade into
the room. +++++

SM: Target in sight, he's opening the back window. Target popping smoke.
LA?
LA: Jamming. Ultrasound jammed solid-
SM: I see him. (shot)
LA: No target, Monty, I - you hit him? Lynch is down, Lynch is down!
Commander, we- (choking noise)
SM: LA's hit. (sound of shot) Lynch is still mobile. (sound of shot)
Drek, this guy's tough. No shot. He's back inside. Two hits,
centre-torso and thigh. LA's took a round in the neck, we need medevac
ASAP.
WOC: Dustoff en-route, ETA 4 minutes.
CD: (advancing on door) Roger that. I-

+++++ A long burst of gunfire echoes inside the motel room and bullets
smash into the Elite that Drake was using for cover - Drake twists to the
side, braced against the wall by the door as Jane crouches below the
window. They exchange hand signals, then both throw a pair of grenades
into the room. As the four concussions shake the building, both fire
blindly into the room as Halberd leans around the doorframe. +++++

AH: Coop flown, he's gone!

CD: WHAT?

+++++ Drake reloads and looks into the room: a ragged hole in one wall
reveals where Lynch blew himself a new exit. Halberd runs towards it, the
netgun ready in his hands, and is suddenly backlit by a piercingly bright
flash before the blast throws him back. +++++

CD: Jane, check him! Tagit, cover his door. Monty, he's in the next
room, number twelve, you see him?

SM: Roger. No shot, window's too thick for gel.

CD: Fraggitall... Go heavy and shoot to disable. Don't take his head
off.

SM: Changing. He's out of sight. Waiting for a shot.

CD: How's LA?

SM: Took a round in the side of the neck. Gel, but he's hurting. Gonna
live.

CD: Halberd?

AJ: Flash and concussion grenades, pointblank. Stunned but coming to.

CD: Okay. Tagit, you set? Tagit?

WOC: GOD DAMN GOD DAMN!!! HE'S COMING RIGHT AT ME!!!

+++++ Drake whirls - through the window, Lynch can be seen running at the
InterPol helicopter, a limping, injured gait that still covers ground at
a startling rate. +++++

SM: Deckit boss!.

+++++ Drake falls like a puppet with cut strings, as the shockwave of a
supersonic bullet whipcracks past him, missing by maybe an inch, and
Lynch is spun halfway around by the impact. +++++

SM: Hit, left thigh. Leg's still attached.

+++++ Lynch, falling, grabs the helicopter's door for support and throws
something - Drake looks away just in time as the flash grenade
detonates. +++++

SM: Scope whited. No shot.

WOC: Uh, sir, I think he wants-
+++++ the pilot's door opens and Chips falls to the ground: after a few
seconds, the idling helicopter's rotors increase their speed as the
engines power up. Drake aims at the helicopter, then lowers the rifle
with a muttered curse.>

CD: Monty, try to bring the chopper down, minimual damage.

SM: No can do unless you want rotor blades everywhere, boss. Barret's
aren't that particular with choppers.

+++++ The helicopter lifts, pivots and accelerates along the road, skids
almost touching the ground - swerving to avoid a panicked car but staying
at absolute ground level. +++++

CD: Casualty report.

LA (hoarse): Sir, I kind of need a medic.

AJ: Halberd's fine, just bruised, singed and concussed. 2 cracked ribs.
Tagit has a broken arm and is out cold.

CD: Chips?

WOC: I'm okay, sir, but that MP-5K looks awful big from the muzzle end-

CD: Relax, Chips. Are we tracking the chopper?

SZ: He's outrunning the drone, sir, I'm losing him. We'll pick him up
when he lands, though, the tracker will start squawking soon as there's
weight on the skids.

CD: Good. Monitor and report. Put another two helos up and start
searching, alert Lone Star, find that aircraft before it lands.

+++++ Drake moves to the wall, studies a small, perfectly round hole,
looks back at a similar hole - this one at the centre of a spiderweb of
cracks. +++++

CD: Monty, you actually had a clean shot on him?

SM: Once you were out of the way, boss. I wouldn't have taken it
otherwise. He's hurting, badly.

CD: Okay. Find him while he's still down.

+++++ Drake bends over, picks up one of the many brass cases on the
motel's cheap carpet. +++++

CD: We were lucky.

SM: Lucky, boss?

CD: You got two hits, he's in a marked vehicle with a tracker, and he's
wounded. But more importantly, he took the time to switch to gel rounds
when he was shooting at us. If he hadn't, we'd be at least one, maybe three
agents down.

SM: I see your point, boss.

CD: Get me some transport now. I want to be mobile.

SZ: Call's in, sir, car coming. Uh, Marshall Qoph is on the line, sir.

CD: (drek) Patch him through.

HQ: Report, Commander.

CD: He was here just like the ritual team said he would be. We attempted to
apprehend using gas grenades and concussion and gel rounds, but were unable
to do so. He injured Agent Long Arm, Sergent Tagit, and Agent Halberd. They
are wounded, but not severely. Sergent Montoya shot him in the leg with an
APDS round, and he is wounded badly.

HQ: Lethal force, Commander?

CD: On my authority, shoot to disable only. Helmet recorders will verify
this order, sir. He is disabled, or will be shortly. Orders, sir, or can I
get busy with tracking and arresting him now?

HQ: I'll be waiting, Commander.

CD: Very good, sir. Drake out.

+++++ End Communication/Camera Download +++++ ]<<<<<
-- Trideo Pirate <23:42:11/06-28-57>

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These messages were posted a long time ago on a mailing list far, far away. The copyright to their contents probably lies with the original authors of the individual messages, but since they were published in an electronic forum that anyone could subscribe to, and the logs were available to subscribers and most likely non-subscribers as well, it's felt that re-publishing them here is a kind of public service.