The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago (Recruiting Area) The Old Guard - Recovery

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The Wanderer Returned
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((Read This First.))

The Old Guard – Recovery

Carolyn’s machine shop has been abuzz with activity 24/7 for the past two weeks. From shop owners coming to ask for favours, to the acquisition of scrap, and distribution of work, it’s clear that the new leader is a bit overwhelmed by all of it. Nonetheless, the call has gone out to all Old Guard regulars, and those seeking a new life with the Old Guard, to come to Carolyn’s machine shop. She had a new mission in the works, and needed some helping hands.

Upon arriving to the entrance of Carolyn’s workshop, each person entering is briefly searched. They’re then forced to take a blood test—as simple as a needle going into someone’s arm, and extracting a little blood. There are no details given about the blood test, merely that it “enhanced security.” Upon passing that test, they are allowed to keep their firearms—though no explosives—and enter Carolyn’s office. There, a butch looking woman would meet them. Bald, and smoking a cigar. “Come in.” There were a few chairs in the room, all facing the woman’s desk. They seemed to have been dragged in recently, to allow her to interview a few people at once. The woman motions to the chairs. “Sit, and we’ll begin.”
 
Stood outside the machine shop with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his hood pulled up, Ghast drew a few suspicious looks from the Old Guard's regulars. The standout strip of grey cloth tied around his upper right arm turned a few of those glances into scowls. The Ghouls weren't the only youth gang in Bunker Chicago, and they were far from the worst, but just by being one of them they represented the seedy underbelly of the colony; the miscreants and ne'er-do-wells that made more trouble than good for their neighbours, spread graffiti and smashed the windows of people they didn't like. Most people didn't know enough to distinguish between them.

Of course, lately, such delinquency had been few and far between. The increased presence of soldiers on the street had even the most rotten apples of the bunch on something that passed for good behaviour. The atmosphere in the Bunker was tense. Ghast could smell it. What had happened between the Guard and the Coalition two weeks ago had laid down a blanket of kindling, and all it would take would be one spark to set off an out-of-control blaze.

Still, that wasn't why he was here. If it were up to him, he'd be with the Ghouls, making sure they were abiding by his instructions to keep their fucking heads down until this all blew over. He'd be keeping an eye on Tommy and his mom. But as it turned out, life wasn't happy with that.

Mom was sick. Running a fever, bed-ridden. It was treatable, no doubt, but fuck if they could afford a doctor, or whatever medicine she'd need. They could barely afford their shack.

And so he'd come here. It wasn't the first time he'd had to turn to military work for something, but it was the first since he'd formed the Ghouls out of the remnants of the Bleakers. Since he was the face of a gang, rather than just a foot soldier. He couldn't help but think it wouldn't have improved his popularity with the Guard.

He'd been stood there a couple of minutes, now, eyeing the other entries. The blood test was new. He wasn't sure he liked that, but it wasn't like he had a choice. He grimaced, and with a sigh, started forwards. He reached the door, and tilted his head up towards the guard, looking out from beneath his hood with dead grey eyes.

"Here to sign up," he said flatly, spreading his arms to indicate his submission to the search. He'd taken to carrying both his knives and both his guns since the tension started to build. If fighting was going to break out in the streets, he wanted to be ready for it. The shotgun was strapped round his front, the handgun holstered at his hip, and the larger knife strapped to his side beneath his jacket. His other knife was strapped and hidden in his boot lining, more out of habit than anything else. Whilst the search was ongoing, he was eyeing the needle. "What's the blood test for?"

"Enhanced security," the man answered by rote. Ghast rolled his eyes.

"Specific," he muttered, but didn't push the issue. He wanted to, but it would only cause a scene, and that was the kind of impression he needed not to make.

When the search was over, Ghast slunk through to the office, eyes darting about and familiarising himself with the shop as he passed through it. Habitually marking escape routes - likely windows, stairways, side doors - as well as anything that would make a handy improvised weapon. Not like he thought he'd need them, but habits were habits.

He stepped into the office, and fixed the woman inside with an assessing, dead-eyed stare. He recognised her as Marie, as much by reputation as anything else. She certainly looked the part of the hardass, raider-hunting machine the rumours said she was. Ghast paused in the doorway only for a moment, before crossing the room and sinking into one of the chairs. As an afterthought, he reached up and shed his hood, letting his unruly hair free. He was a memorable face, though whether Marie paid enough attention to the bunker's delinquent youths to put a name to it was another question.

"Hey," he offered, almost as much a grunt as it was a word. His eyes darted around the room for a few moments longer before they settled on her, and his fingers fidgeted on the armrests. He was obviously uncomfortable.
 
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The tensions between the Coalition and Old Guard were a serious downer as Viktor moved through the markets feeling, as he always did, naked outside the cockpit of легендарный Крокодил. But he'd always had nothing but respect for Carolyn's father and doubted the Coalition represented the best interests once demonstrated of Devin Antoinette.

And so he found himself moving closer to the machine-shop that the woman had commandeered as her command post. The guards outside gave him a brisk search that he allowed with a grin at the woman on the right, "Don't worry, I'm just happy to see you." He grinned... she didn't. And his own grin faded when the woman produced a needle and vial.

"I don't like to admit it. But needles... don't make me..." Now she grinned. Devil woman! He steadfastly looked away. "Please don't clone me." He scrunched up his eyes and waited...

"I finished about thirty seconds ago..." She finally said.

Viktor turned and looked at her. Her eyes were smiling. "Devil woman!" He said half snarling, half choking back laughter. "I shall get my own back!" Getting up he entered the room and took a seat at Marie's direction.
 
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"Ghast." Marie replies quietly to the greeting from the young man. She didn't even have to look at him to recognize him, it was sufficient that he was a trouble maker. "I know you. I don't really fucking care about your gang either, so relax. If you were really an issue to me, you would be feeding the Earth." She glances over to the door as another entered. Her eyebrow raises in confusion, before a sigh leaves her lips and she leans against her desk. "Who are you, exactly?" Her eyes move between them. Though she feigned boredom, it was clear from how tense she was that she was anything but bored. Before Viktor could reply to her question, Marie continued with another--directed at both Ghast, and Viktor. "So. Why the fuck do either of you think you think I should hire you?"
 
Ghast shot a glance across at Viktor as he entered, having heard a few snippets of his exchange outside the officer. 'Cheerful fucker, aren't you?' he thought to himself as the man took his seat, almost smirking. 'Glad not everyone around here has a stick up their ass.'

Speaking of ... Ghast grimaced slightly at being picked up on his fidgeting, and suppressed it, holding his hands still while Marie talked. "I can shoot, I can fight, and 'm not an idiot," he answered her question flatly, shrugging. "Can take a shotgun to the gut and keep on kicking, if needs be. I've worked for you guys before, 'n did my job fine. But most've all I need meds, 'n you need soldiers. Seems like a good enough setup to me. But you tell me more of what we've got to do, I can pitch you more've why I'll be good for it."
 
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Viktor simply waited for Ghast to finish what he was saying. He held for a few moments, allowing it to look like he was seriously considering the question, and perhaps he was. "Because frankly there is enough of a schism going on and you can't really afford to knock back pilots. I presume you know my record and that I have family here, yes my brother is an analyst in the Bunker, probably signed over to the Coalition, my Sister is out here in the outskirts."

He paused considering more. "I am a good pilot, great perhaps behind the yoke of легендарный Крокодил, and I believe it is probably one of the most advanced helicopters here, perhaps i'm wrong, perhaps i'm not. But it's well made for a ground attack role and capable of transporting a small unit of men and women making it a valuable resource, it even has a small drone cluster for scouting and fire control." He looked Marie in the eyes, "I will be honest, I don't know what equipment Antoinette has at beck and call, but I would still hazard the possibility my helicopter is the most advanced piece of equipment being offered by potential recruits and there is nobody better qualified to fly it in the most literal sense, and with the schism nobody wants to admit exists Carolyn needs every advantage on offer." He paused.

He gave a wry grin. "And hey, i'm pretty."
 
Ghast gave a small snort, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, pretty full of yourself," he muttered under his breath with a wry smirk to match Viktor's grin. The guy could put as many qualifiers on as he wanted to try and sound like he was being objective, but he obviously thought he was hot shit. Ghast would reserve judgement until he saw the guy and his 'leegen-darny krokadil' in action... not that he knew much about flying to be able to rate him.

And either way, he wasn't that pretty.
 
"Enhanced security my ass." Jamie mumbled as he made way into the building, letting one of the 'Old Guard' goons guide him along as his rubbed at his freshly violated arm. It was about as warm a greeting as he expected in a time like this, too warm maybe. The fact they hadn't even bothered to confiscate his rifle told him more about these people than he had learned in his three weeks as a silent observer. Quickly he reached his destination, an office. By what he could could only define as 'banter' coming from within he figured that the hiring was already in motion. An inconvenience, but not one that held him back as he confidently walked in an took a seat, sitting in silence as he wordlessly judged the others in the room.
 
Marie quietly watches another enter the room, and then leans against the desk. She seemed to mull over whether or not to answer Ghast's question so soon, but, in the end... "Mouse went missing this morning. In case you somehow don't know what that fucking means, it means that all of the secrets he has gathered on everyone in The Coalition, U-ARM, and The Old Guard will go live in the next thirty six hours. That will throw this entire colony into disarray unless we find him. Luckily, we have... Before I can reveal that, however..." She rests her hand on her sidearm. "Understand that you would be obtaining secrets from us. If you join us, you take our secrets with you. If you tell anyone else about them, or side with anyone else when the time comes for this mission to start, we'll remember that." She crosses her arms over chest. "So. Any of you fuckin' chickening out now or what?"
 
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Viktor looked Marie in the eye. "Or What." He maintained a deadpan expression for a moment before grinning wryly for a moment, "If those are the stakes, those are the stakes. Anyone who is going to back out because they're high isn't welcome at my poker table."
 
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Ghast paid little heed to the second new arrival, other than to shoot him an assessing look as he walked in. At Marie's answer, he raised an eyebrow. Mouse? And there he'd thought there was some unspoken agreement that nobody went after the little runt. Someone going after him meant that the culprit was either very confident in not having anything major to hide, confident their enemies' secrets were worse than theirs ... or not connected to bunker politics at all. "Nah, I'm in," Ghast nodded. "You know I've got no love for the eagle fuckers-" as much was obvious from the regularity with which the Ghouls defaced whatever U-ARM propaganda they could get close to, whether with vandalism or graffiti, "- and 'm not about to sell my soul to the Coalies. Too much left for me on this side of the barricades, y'know?"

He grinned. "So hit me, boss."
 
Jamie did not in fact know what this 'Mouse' going missing fucking meant and was just about to open his mouth to ask, though not before Marie continued and answered it before he managed a single word. He simply nodded along as she continued, only looking away to send a wink to the younger man who was looking him over. Hopefully that would keep him from trying to get too close.

"Alright," He spoke plainly, responding to Marie's profanity with a bored bluntness, "As long as I get access to this shop when I need it I'll do just about anything."
 
A grin quickly becomes plastered on Marie's face. "Good! Not one of you is a chicken shit." He walks past them all, and closes the door to the office. She then walks back over to her desk, and sits down behind it. "Before Mouse was kidnapped, he had the good sense to activate an electronic tracker he embedded in his own skin. It's been sending out electronic bursts every few minutes, which we've been listening to. Here's the problem, though: His signal traveled to the city ruins and went underground. He has been relatively stationary for the past hour, approximately one kilometer below the surface... Well below any of the old sewer systems." She pulls out a bottle of water from the desk, and a few glasses. She starts filling each of them, with the apparent intent of offering each of them a glass of water. "We have traced his path, and found that he went underground before reaching the Orange Fog. We're going to follow the same path he took, reach him, and rescue him from the clutches of whoever stole him away. We're going to do this tonight." She glances out the window, the sun was hanging at a mid-afternoon point.

"The most troubling part of all of this, is that the only force I can think of that could do this outside of The Coalition would be The Children of Eve... Which may explain why they've been so quiet over the past month, outside of giving us a warning to stay away. By moving into their territory, even if it's underneath the ground, we are more than likely going to draw their ire. We would most certainly take high casualties to pursue this rescue, if not for the fact that we're getting some unusual help... The prisoner that we took from The Coalition, his name is Ezekiel. He insists that he means us no harm, and that he is equally as baffled by the actions of those in the Orange Fog as we are--which is why he was coming out to ask Eve for help. Apparently, the Children of Eve are not perfectly unified in purpose. Ezekiel is going to help guide us to Mouse, as he can apparently feel the presence of listeners--which, Mouse is. I don't trust Ezekiel, not completely... He still has his own motives, his own loyalty to someone who has made it clear that she is not our ally. However, he may be our only chance of actually finding Mouse, and we've gotten all the information we can out of him."

Marie glances at Viktor, and frowns. "The use of your helicopter may be limited in this mission. It will be useful to help cover our escape." Her gaze then turns to Jamie. "I'm uncertain as to whether or not your tank will be able to get very far either." She then looks between the three of them. "If any of you have any questions, ask now."
 
Ghast raised an eyebrow at the wink, pulling a face before looking back towards Marie as she spoke.

"Underground, cramped quarters?" He grinned. "Sounds like my jam." The teenager rocked back in his chair, folding his arms, and his grin shifted to a thoughtful frown. "Can this Ezekiel guy tell between one listener and another? Can't imagine Mouse's the only one down there, if the freakflock is involved."

He paused for a moment, then added. "And uh, what's the plan if and when we run into the Coalies or anyone else out there? I'm guessing we might not be the only ones who've picked up this tracker. You reckon they're just gonna start shooting, or things not quite got to that point yet?"
 
Viktor considered the situation, it was far far FAR from ideal. He had little experience on the ground. Almost none really. That put a pretty hard limit on his options. "Ok, so what do you want me to do?, Ground nearby and join you, I have little experience on foot other than rudimentary training, or maintain an aerial cover position in case of fast extraction? I could even nominally provide drone scouting from легендарный Крокодил, the micro-drones should be small enough to give you some advanced warning in the tunnels, but I have no idea what the signal quality that far down is going to be like." He shrugged. "Your call."
 
"Tonight, eh?" Jamie looked between Marie and the others, noting the younger man's eagerness and the other pilot's disappointment, "I suppose we aren't getting an orientation then? Maybe a video primer?" His tone rode between joking and serious and friendly smile found his lips, "Sounds like you guys are getting desperate. Considering this fine helicopter pilot and I are a little out of our element here, how about a little something to boost our chance of success? Guns, armor or maybe something to help us go in-and-out without pulling too much attention to ourselves? It's in both of our interests."
 
Marie glances at Ghast, "we're working with The Coalition on this operation, officially. Unofficially, don't be surprised if they have ulterior motivations, but I'm not certain what they are at this point in time... The fucking bastards do love their secrets, though. For the moment we have a greater threat unifying us, don't expect this tenuous friendship to last once that threat has been dealt with, though."

Her attention is drawn toward Viktor. She appears to ponder his limitations, and nods quietly. "We can deal with this." She walks over to the desk and pulls out a pencil and a piece of scrap paper. She writes down some information, and hands it to Viktor. "Take this downstairs to the supply officer. He'll help equip you with some tools so you can use your drones more effectively while on foot. Otherwise, yes, you will be on foot for at least part of this operation."

Finally, her attention is pulled to Jamie. "You'll have access to all of our standard infantry equipment. It's not much to look at, but it's better than nothing, fucking trust me on that one. You'll just have to make do while underground. I wish I could say more than that, but we don't know anything more than that--you'll just have to make your decisions on the ground, when you get there."

She then looks them all over, and wrinkles her nose. "If you have any further questions, ask them now. If not, leave this room, and return here this evening."
 
"What's the pay?" Ghast asked, quick off the bat. "And we got any see-in-the-dark shit? Guessing it might be dark as fuck in places, since y'know, underground."
 
"Pay is in favours, as usual. You'll get your medicine, some food, even some salvage or old world currency--it'll depend on how fuckin' useful you are. We'll supply gas masks and nightvision goggles, people will need them." Marie replies, bluntly. As she watches Viktor and Jamie leave the room, she shouts after them. "1800 HOURS! Meet back here, in front of Carolyn's workshop! Don't be late!"
 
"A'ight," Ghast nodded. "Sounds good." The teenager rose from his seat and gave a casual half-salute. "Later, then. I'll leave you to..." He gestured vaguely at the room. "Uh, whatever you gotta do."

And with that, he turned and left.
 
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