(no subject)

[gone_byebye]

Mid-January, 2008
RCMP/Ministry of Extraordinary Threats Emergency Hangar
Alert, Nunavut, CA

Even in times of the highest tension and most danger, people find ways to keep themselves busy, and neither the Ghostbusters nor the men and women of the world's northern watch bureaus were any great exception. "Ray? Ray! Ray, check it out." Venkman shook his friend's shoulder. "Egon's in a fight with one of the Inquanok guys."

Ray opened an eye and glanced sideways. Several of the Danish contingent and a couple of the Pohjola Project's Sami members were gathered in a semicircle centered on Egon and a broad-faced, dark-eyed man in Danish uniform. "Wow. Spengs is looking kinda..."

"Green," Winston finished for both of them. "That's freaky. What are they fighting about?"

"The worst thing they've ever eaten," said Venkman. "Eske's winning."

Ray and Winston exchanged glances. They both knew Egon's eating habits. "How?" Ray finally asked.

"That's not food," Egon suddenly said, loud enough to be heard over the snickering Greenlanders. "That's biological waste. You can't consider anything with that level of ammonia in it to qualify as edible."

"This from the man who admits to eating casu marzu," said his opponent with the serene smile of a man who knows he's won. "Hákarl is nothing-"

Winston shook his head. Ray gave up on the possibility of a nap and stood up. "Has anyone seen where Captain Korpan went?" he asked, and one of the Finns pointed. "Thank you."

He found the Canadian in the tiny office attached to the hangar, one hand pressing his headset against his ear and the other taking frantic notes. As Ray walked in Korpan lifted his eyes, winced, and held up a piece of paper that read:

Magnetic fields flaring
Deep ones report Russian helicopter near 82.7° N 114.4° W
Radio comms dorppinng like brick

A moment later Korpan scribbled one last line:

Dammit, I can spell. Marines on the way. Tell the others. We're going in.

Ray shuddered, nodded, and went in search of a better door.


[OOC: Assume everyone will be arriving from Milliways within five minutes of each other. Also, don't click on the food links above if you have a weak stomach.]

Comments

[k_in_black]

K waves back and heads over to the four men. Oddly enough, the cold doesn't seem to be bothering him much at all, but he's definitely standing out like a bold-faced exclamation point on a blank page.

By the time he's in earshot, K is back to his usual game-face, as he calls out:

"You gents are looking like a suicidal stand against a potential Omega-Class Mythos Threat is somehow a bad thing."

[gone_byebye]

"I can think of better ways to spend my weekend," Winston returns- but he's smiling. "Good to see you again, man."

Ray just gives a wry, tired little smile. "I'm starting to understand some of the New Year's wishes I got this year," he says. "Hi, K. The Russians have a chopper out at the site that used to be the North Magnetic Pole before it started moving like a British royal with the paparazzi on its tail, which we figure can't mean anything good. Beaked Whale Moiety, and to a lesser degree Greenland Shark Moiety, sent a contingent of some of their better prepared deep sea swimmers to come and lend a hand. They've got even more reason not to want anything to come through the cracks than we do- they like it here just fine without the old home team."

[k_in_black]

"I'll bet my last plasma charge the Russians have more out here than one chopper," K says as if he expects that to be news to no one.

But Ray knows him K enough to tell the Man in Black is pleased to hear they have deep-sea support.

"What about the Russians' radio transmissions? That magnetic disturbance must be raising all kinds of hell with their comm systems."

[gone_byebye]

"No radio comms worth mentioning except at extremely close range," Ray says. "Captain Korpan- he's the Ministry site coordinator and head of their rapid response team- is sending Jim Kirk and Dr. Tsybenko there along with the Deep Ones to catch up with the sub in the event of a rescue being needed."

"Or a hijacking," says Egon tersely; he's given up on talking to Eske for now. "Destroying the submarine would be catastrophic given the proximity of the nuclear reactor to the dimensional fault lines. Diverting it from its intended course might require seizing the vessel by force."

[k_in_black]

K shakes his head with a chuckle. "Haven't been here three minutes, and you've already got me wishing the best for a team of Deep Ones."

K mulls that over for a couple of seconds, then shakes his head.

"Can't say the thought of a nuclear chain reaction in immediate proximity to a dimensional rift puts a spring in my step. But sounds like that's well out of our reach now."

"What other ops have you got in play?"

[gone_byebye]

"The local variation on the theme of fish isn't the same as the original stock, not by a long shot," Ray says. "Four hundred thousand years of development in the absence of active Great Old One influence goes a long way, especially when you consider that their ancestors started dying of old age within two hundred years of arriving in this dimension. They're not even Dagonites any more, from what I can tell."

"Insofar as any race can ever sever that kind of linkage," Egon mutters.

"Thank you, Little Mary Sunshine," says Venkman.

Ray just shakes his head a little. "The rest of us are going to deploy along the high-probability areas for rift openings. I'm hoping we'll see PKE readings that'll be at least consonant with the ones we got at 55 Central Park West, because that implies a possible solution to the rift issue that doesn't require universal self-sealing or the Exploder Wizard's last-ditch emergency spell- that's him over there, the one with all the hair and the swagger. His name's Dark Schneider. He's dealt with similar things before but I'd rather not have him do more than blow incoming nasties to pieces unless we absolutely have to."

[k_in_black]

K eyes the man. "I'm all in favor of explosions myself. Just as long as the right side is getting them."

K pulls out his scanner and starts mashing buttons even before the holographic display is fully in view. He eyes Venkman. "Could have used the other one of you better for this. No offense."

K shuts the scanner and eyes the screen that's still visible, as he holds the scanner up toward the four men. The scanner starts emitting a low, "bip!" noise they can barely hear. "All right. This thing is now picking up PKE. Standard, low-level, residual type I can usually get when I'm around one of you."

"So how many 'high-probability areas' are we talking about here?"

[gone_byebye]

"Hey, somebody's gotta have the factory-standard brain."

Ray ignores Peter's comment. "Three," he says. "Maybe four. Or, um, five. Possibly. Definitely not more than five, though. Any more than that and it simply becomes a single larger blended rent in the fabric of reality as we know it."

[k_in_black]

"And if it gets that far, the lady's already sung and left the building. Got it."

"How far away is the highest-probability area, and how long do we have before the first estimated crisis event?"

[gone_byebye]

"Given the number of backup people we're gonna have to move for this?" says Ray. "If we start moving now- I mean, if all of us start moving now- we should reach the zone of highest likelihood in about fifteen minutes. Which, um, should put us there about five minutes before projected maximally optimal conditions for a truly epic and potentially manifold cross-rip."

[k_in_black]

Ray barely has the words out before K flicks a switch on the XT-17, triggering an incredibly impressive power-up whine.

"Sounds like our cue, Chief. Just say the word."

[wellthrownstone.livejournal.com]

"Word?"

It was amazing how well someone his size could hide and/or not call attention when it chose not to. And how easily someone's attention could be called when certain things were said.

Garion, massive sword over one shoulder and a couple other sharp pointy bits of metal about his person, gives a respectful nod to K. Then to Ray.

"Sorry. Wife."

[gone_byebye]

"It happens," says Ray, looking up. "You guys've met, right? You and K, I mean? I know you don't know Captain Korpan here, he's the local coordinator-"

Korpan blinks at the new arrival and waves a little nervously. Right now, Garion is the tallest person north of the Arctic Circle.

[wellthrownstone.livejournal.com]

"I think I served him a drink once," he admits, though he can't recall more.

He does, however, turn to give Captain Korpan a respectful nod as well, now that he had a name.

"Good day to you, Captain. Garion."

He also gets a crooked smile. It was meant to be mildly reassuring, but there was a glint of Alorn bloodlust that he couldn't quite get rid of that might have the opposite effect.

Just remember, Captain: he's on your side.

[gone_byebye]

Korpan's seen faces like that before. They usually have hockey sticks in hand. He'll just nod, gesture to the others- Schneider included- and shout, "All right, people! Operation Unwelcome Wagon is go- let's move on out!"

To here, for preference.