Wolf's Lair

[GSgt Mike Hefner 0]

Snoop Leader Duty Log

GSgt Mike Hefner

139th Marine Battalion

USS Agincourt

 

Wolf’s Lair

 

One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter. Terrorist, insurrectionist, or freedom fighter – didn’t matter. They were all fanatics fighting on their own turf for a morally justified cause. It was the worst kind of conflict. Helluva situation.

 

Marine patrols Snoop and Dog had been lurking in the Brukam section of Avaros City near the department store where terrorists had been reported. Hell, they were supposed to be watching for looters. If there were terrorists mixed among the looters, or if terrorists were using the looters as cover for their own ops, Agincourt's policing duties had just escalated. Damn poor time to be in command.

 

Hefner and Grafton had their teams in the underbrush behind the department store, keeping an eye on the hillside trail that wound its way into dense forest. The Avarian’s bolt up the mountain hadn't raised any red flags initially, but afterthought buggered Hefner like hell, so he got permission from Harper to stay and watch.

 

Not long after taking their positions on the hill, the same guy emerged from the underbrush, entered the store, then reappeared carrying two dark, metal crates about the size of old projectile ammo boxes. Pretty much looked like ‘em, too. Grafton's sensors couldn't read through the casing. Not a good sign. A few minutes later three more appeared using the same M.O. Scans inconclusive. Time for Snoop to live up to the name.

 

While they were watching the wolfs’ front door the wolf just might be going out the back, so as soon as activity along the path waned, Mike sent Grafton and Dog back to CGC and spread Snoop over the hill in search of the lair while he prepared for recon.

 

Finding some heavy brush, he slipped in, lowered his pack and pulled out his Stealth Diversion Recon Skin – SDRS for short – a non-reflective leotard that made him a visual and sensor chameleon. Its ultra-thin, light weight material confused any readings that would ordinarily be picked up by high-tech devices, and it absorbed the color, texture, and shading of the terrain. It didn’t look like this group was very high-tech, but Mike wasn't one to take chances, and visual confusion would give him a leg up.

 

A set of bushes bunched together made a snug changing room. He stripped, pulled on the recon skin, slipped in its re-breather and compact body waste recycle unit, and stashed his clothing and gear in the underbrush. He was going nekkid – without comm or sensors, nothin’ but his God-given. Even Snoop wouldn’t be able to see him as he worked his way into the zone.

 

The hill behind the store was a glacial moraine – heavy silt with pebbles and a few boulders thrown in for good measure. Within a few thousand yards it leveled into thick limestone dotted with alluvial pools. Perfect for cave formation, thought Mike, and he was right. Not too far over the crest of the hill the trail ran into a thicket that dead-ended at the base of a cliff. Scrapes on one side of the escarpment led Mike to the left and around a jagged outcropping that hid the entrance. Bingo.

 

Check for Snoop. They’d found the entrance and taken up standard positions. The you’re toast signal for spotting him was not forthcoming – drinks were his call tonight. He grinned under the suit and crept through the opening.

 

Two hundred meters down, the narrow passageway widened into a sizable room piled with equipment and supplies, enough for a small army. Two guards sat on opposite sides of the opening, one preoccupied with opening a package and the other faced inward listening to a group that was deep in discussion. Amateur operation, low on the totem pole, or both. After weaving among the crates it didn’t take long for Mike to assess the group, gather information, and slip out again.

 

Forty-five minutes later he was down the hill, redressed, and ready to send a report to Harper. Position, number of combatants, species, genders, armaments and supplies, possible connections with other groups in the area, and the bad news: talk of collaboration with the Soltan. Helluva situation. Definitely a bad time to be in command.

[Kansas 0]

Sweet! A covert ops stealth suit that kicks azz, terroristic type baddies, possible Soltan collaboration, and under your nose recon. I can't ask for any more military action in a log. Nice one Slick!

 

- K >^..^<