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Old 02-10-2017, 10:42 PM
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Digging Up the Truth

The flight(s) to the former Soviet Union, now Russia, had been... uneasy. The team had to be routed through Thailand to catch a flight into the Altai Krai region; it was hours of extra air travel, but it saved days of overland travel. The plane, a stuffy charter that shouldn't have been flying across Phuket, let alone internationally, touched down hard a little after midnight, local time. Customs checks, especially for the American, were tense, complete with extra searches and even a long interview for the medic. While there were moments where it felt like the whole expedition could fall apart, hours of handsy agents passed and all four members were standing on the curb outside Barnaul Airport.

The city itself was a prime example of the neglect and paranoia of the Soviet era, and with only a year between that end and where they stood now, meant little had changed. Most of Siberia was too far removed to warrant a strong military presence, but this far south and this close to the border, the last major city before one reached the occupied territory of Kazakhstan (now a free Democratic Republic, at least according to the papers), signs of the star or where it had been were everywhere. Now, however, they mostly just got the stink eye from every passerby. It might have been the hour (3 am usually precludes anyone but drunks, clubbers, or night shift workers), but they suspected it was a little more than that. Several hundred pounds of expensive equipment caught more than one wandering eye.

Finally, after a half hour of standing about and waiting for their guide to arrive, a fellow with a pot belly wrapped in a Tommy Hilfiger sleeveless T and supported by cinched chinos strode up to them, squinting. After a moment of indecision, he rattled the thin gold chain around his neck and pulled his jowled scraggle of a beard into a sharp grin. "Hey, is Professor Warrington, yes? Ha! Is what you call, ah, good timing, yes? I just got out of club, there." He pointed a sausage finger at a flickering neon sign spelled out in Cyrillic (which, for those that could read it, proclaimed everyone within to be having "Wet Times"). "I am Urosov! Urosov Yanovich! I am your guide!" With that, he dragged the Professor into a giant, Russian bear hug, and clapped him on the back hard enough to pull a cough out of him.

"Come, we must be getting to the motel, there are fees if we do not drive away the car before nine. No one likes the fees! Come, come. We will all walk this way." The man began stumbling, drunkenly, away from the main strip of town, leading the expedition into the dark early morning of southern Siberia.
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Old 02-11-2017, 10:02 AM
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Welcome to the Soviet Union
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"What is your reason for visiting the Motherland, Doctor?" The customs officer. He looked much as Dave would have expected. Overdressed, covered in red stars, pudgy, thick accent, crappy English. Dave was well traveled on the surgery circuit, but the Soviet Union was not on the list. Alaska and Poland were about as close as had had come.

"As I mentioned, I am with a scientific expedition. I am medical support." The Mop gestured to his medical supplies on the table lying between him and the Soviet. There were some specialty gauze and newer hemostatics that the soldier certainly would never have seen. Some of it was frankly experimental, and Dave's explanations, repeated painstakingly over the last hour had been complete, thorough and...the same. He was used to dealing with obnoxious patients so this wasn't so bad.

Despite the movies, a thorough search didn't include cavity searches. But they did have him strip down and turn while the guards inspected him. Dave didn't really care, he was fit and had nothing to hide. He thought for a moment that they would deny his movement through the country, but something Warrington did while he was in there had some effect. A bribe or political pressure maybe. Lucky for MacKenzie, this expedition was so exciting, nothing could knock him off his perch.

"SpaceboСпасибо" said MacKenzie without any percieved malice, like strip searches and rifling through his bag was routine. To their credit, nothing seemed to be missing as Dave repacked his supplies and backpack. They even left the Swiss Army knife he had packed away with some simple camping supplies. While Warrington had said they would be supplied, MacKenzie had left nothing to chance. He'd even memorized some pigeon Russian in case there were problems.

When he left the most thorough (and hopefully last) customs check, Dave wore his heavy tan canvas pants, an clean but worn lucky AC/DC shirt, and black medic's vest with pockets. He secured his paperwork in his inner breast pocket. One couldn't be too careful witht hose prescious papers. When he saw the rest of the group waiting patiently, Dave felt a pang of guilt. He shrugged to Warrington to excuse his treament and smiled. No need to get this thing started off on the wrong foot.

"No harm, no foul. I suppose, eh guys?"

Until he knew the group better, Dave would be affable. He suffered fools lightly, but all these folk seemed rather capable. He was the odd man out having been added at the last minute, so if he was going to function well he would have to go along to get along. He rejoined his companions and prepared again for the journey ahead.


OOCThought I'd get things going.
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Last edited by Bluejack; 02-11-2017 at 10:03 AM.
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Old 02-11-2017, 08:31 PM
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Ishikawa, Allocation and Expense Management



Like everyone, Ishikawa was exhausted. So when a Urosov Yanovich showed up, he thought that was about the last thing he needed. He looked at the piece of paper and that was the right name. So that's their man in Siberia. Drunk and late.

As they waited, Ishikawa had found a small shop and bought a bunch of coffee for everyone... which had been long finished thanks to Urosov. Speaking Russian was helpful already. He was wondering what the heck they needed him for. The paperwork had been vague. He did some basic encyclopedic framework programming presuming he'd be maintaining the knowledge gained by the mission. Just in case he brought a pattern recognition and decipher program he'd been playing with for years.

He didn't appreciate Urosov's unprofessional behavior and was a little worried about whatever this project would be. He followed the drunk. He didn't feel talkative around the drunk and just nodded and gave mildly exasperated looks to whoever met his eyes.

 
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Old 02-12-2017, 10:45 AM
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Warrington
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Getting approval for the expedition had not actually been as difficult as Professor Oliver Warrinington had first expected. In fact they had almost approved all of his expedition team on the first go. All expect the soldier he had intended to bring along in case there was trouble, apparently he had a bit of a history that Warrington had not been privy to prior to the recommendation. In his place he had found a rather capable American. He did not know Dave well but they had met through a mutual acquaintance he had back in the States and was highly recomended as a trust worthy fellow. If they had any luck they wouldn't need his medical expertise, but he had learned over the years to be prepared for anything.

The hard part had been all the red tape he had to go through to get the Russian government to actually approve his passage to Siberia and give him all the approvals and certifications he needed to get temporary visas for his team, permision to actually perform the dig once he was there, and actually be able to walk away with anything he found. It took months of back and forth but he had finally managed to pull it off. The crappy flight over was just the capstone of inconvinence. He had tried to brush up on his fathers journal on the way back but between a packed flight and turbulance he was lucky the rather well fed greek man next to him hadn't spilt his coffee all over the precious document.

Luckily his greatest fear wasn't realized and they were able to track down all of the equipment they had checked. The team started meeting one by one as their various flights arrived and he held up a sign with 'Warrington' wrote in across it in English. Most of the team had arrived pretty punctually but the american had been held up by a rather zelous team at customs.

"You got that right. Let's just try to keep our head down for now, the Russian government wasn't exactly thrilled that a Brit and American were coming to dig up their deepest darkest secrets."

Giving them a nodd they started to make their way out of the airport and toward the meeting place they had arranged for their guide. As they were met with various suspicious glances Oliver gave his team a knowning look reinforcing his previous words. He had started to become a bit concerned when the coffee Ishikawa had bought had long since disappeared. Finally the guide arrived giving him a firm hug.

Giving Ursov a questioning look he answered. "Good timing? I guess you suppose drinking your fill of vodka while your paying customers wait is a good way to lose a tip? Yes? You did realize we brought an American with us? You know how they like to throw around their cash when they are happy. Of course when they are not... I suggest you get us moving before you get this fine you are so worried about."

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Old 02-21-2017, 12:15 AM
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A very serious look graced the joweled figure for a brief instant, before it went right back to an insufferable grin. "Naaah, you British, always with the joking! We are friends now, yes, and we will uncover the secrets! Ha! Come, come, it is only a little more this way." He led on, for a block more, until he stopped, staring hard at the ground in front of him. It was hard to make out what he was assessing in the stagnant dark, but whatever it was puzzled him immensely.

"I... do not... it is... YA ne mogu..." The bulky fellow jerked, then slowly turned to face the team. It had been a while since they had set out into the pitch black, so some shapes had started to resolve, and the few functional street lights added a bit of ambiance to the weirdly warm (by Siberian standards) early morning, but colors were still out of the question. The shining white behind the T and H on Urosov's shirt was quickly being overtaken by an inky black blotch, spreading down and out of his chest. The contrast was stark, and the glimmer of distant lights danced across his eyes as they glossed over, their own inner light quickly fading despite his wide-eyed stare. He sank to his knees, then, perching on his haunches as his body slumped over itself into a frumpy triangle. He gurgled, once.

A sputtering growl echoed him from the shadows.
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Old 02-23-2017, 02:19 PM
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Ishikawa, Allocation and Expense Management


"crapTawagoto, "said Ishikawa as he simultaneously
Dice perception:
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tried to see the nature and location of the enemy, dropped most of his bags and began scrounging around for that glock he had tucked away in his satchel.

 
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Old 02-24-2017, 11:21 AM
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Professor Warrington was happy to finally get moving as they followed their russian guide through the streets despite his false bravado. In the excitement of it all he had forgotten for a moment to consider the fact that they might actually be vulnerable to danger. As Ursov turned to him suddenly stopping mid sentence the professor caught him as he fell to his knees suddenly realizing the inky blotch was blood. Looking up to the others he attempted to think quickly.

"Quick find cover!"he yelled in warning.

Heeding his own advice he quickly found the first thnig he could hid behind before asking the others. "Anyone see where it came from?"
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Old 02-24-2017, 02:04 PM
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"What the?..." Dave saw the spreading blood on Urisov's chest and knew within a milisecond that their guide was dead. The injury was "in the box" as those in the know said, and that rapid a spread meant major cardiac or great vessel injury. Triage over.

Now time to save my own skin. Dave judged the trajectory form the wound as behind or to the side, with a silenced weapon no less. Maybe a rifle. He moved quickly to the nearest cover (hopefully a nearby ally) and crouched. He took his trusty shotgun with the buckshot ammo and prepared to load the weapon. Shotguns sucked at long range, but at least it was something.

This just got a whole lot more interesting. Looks like we ain't the only ones interested in this mission!

Dave took a look at the quickly dying Russian in the street. He was used to this type of thing, dying folks, bullet wounds. It meant nothing to him...for now. There would be time for lamenting the inhumanity of it all once they were to safety. He looked to Warrington as he panned the streets and buildings for their assailant.

"We need to get the **** out of here! There is no telling how many there are out there!"


OOCI didn't now if we had equipment yet. Dave is a good American and proficient with hunting rifles and shotguns (fighter 2). I can edit the post to fit the equipment.
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