The Division: Hollywood (IC/Open)

[Kyraina]

OOC
July 15th, 2016

It started in December, just a couple weeks after the Dollar Flu appeared in New York. It reared its ugly head in Los Angeles, CA. At first, it had spread slowly but by January, California was on lockdown and quarantine had been implemented. The Law Enforcement Agencies, Fire Departments, EMT Services, The Military (mainly National Guard and Reserves), and the California State Guard had been combined to form the state’s Joint Task Force. They were sent into LA, Sacramento, San Diego, and San Francisco with a fourth of their forces to each, but they failed in a way that even NYC had not seen. Everyone had heard the news coming out of New York City, and while things were calm at first thanks to the JTF, when word got out that it was Green Poison everything went downhill faster than they did after Rodney King. The JTF in Los Angeles started to fold in on itself by January, but even the local SHD Agents weren't prepared for what would come next. Everyone was caught with their pants on the ground when The Hangmen broke out of the Twin Towers County Prison and the County Jail next door, while at the same time Compton, Carson, and Huntington Park started to tear themselves apart from both the Dollar Flu and gang warfare. JTF, CERA, and The division were sent in, not long afterward CERA collapsed and pulled out the JTF as well. We were told to contain the area by any means necessary, while they walled the three cities off. Well, out of the 60 of us First Wave to go in, only 20 of us came out, we lost a lot of good agents and a few even went rogue.

The JTF has folded in on itself and split into three Factions, who you all have been given Intel on. We got a call from Terminal Island about a refugee camp set up there, as many as 150,000 quickly evacuated there during the early parts of the outbreak. It's called Port Town now. The town controls both The Port of Los Angeles and The Port of Long Beach, plus some of the area surrounding the island. The Rangers, made up of JTF and Volunteers, have taken control of the USS Iowa, and have decided to help us and help Port Town

The 20 of us left still loyal dropped to 3, and then we got word the rogue first wave were all wiped out somehow, still trying to figure that one out. A call for a Second wave went out, but they were all wiped out at their rally point, between fighting amongst themselves and an unknown attacker.

A Third Wave, Agents from anywhere outside LA, are being called to help. Meet us at the Iowa. Division Agent.........Hissing of Static.........

It has been 10 days since the call for help had gone out for any agent to come help, but just as the transmission was sent out, the Nodes in DC went down and most Agents got sent there instead. But the agents in LA and the few Agents that were in route to LA realized that if we lost the city, we lost the West Coast. The Rangers and the Port Town Militia have done what they can to secure methods of entry into LA by clearing out a route from outside East LA to Port Town, but they never got very far into securing it when more dire emergencies started to pop up. The inbound agents would have to depend on ISAC, who was only working to about 20 miles outside the Greater LA area, to plot their course through the City to Port Town and the USS Iowa. SHD had predicted that transport between cities might become problematic for agents, so along major through-ways and even forgotten state roads at regular intervals, they had installed hidden garages with both CNG and LNG, as well as charging stations for agents to either switch vics, or refill/recharge what they were currently using.


Gun Wagan, Adam "Roach" Kozak
Port Town//25July2016, 0530 Local

Two men that couldn't be more different from each other, stood in the Meeting Room of the Port Town's City hall, the old Federal Maritime Commision office from before the outbreak. It was one of the few buildings that had its own power source with the Solar Panels on top of the building. The others that made up the Council had made it yet, so it gave the two men a chance to catch up.

Gun glanced over at Roach as the duo looked out of an east facing window as day became dusk.

"It never gets old seeing the sun rise. It's a beautiful sight. Hard to believe, isn’t it Roach?"

"Aye, a beautiful fucking reminder that the world has gone to shit and it's up to men like us to fix the shit. I guess you can call that beautiful, Gun."

"I forget how much of a negative ass you are. If I'd known you were going to be this bad when you decided to take us up on our offer after your little stroll, I would have fed you to the fishes."

"Yeah, and The Rangers would have still been running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. We saw how well they did after the last Chief Ranger went on a lead diet."

The Sikh didn't have a reply for that one, as he knew that Roach was right with that point. He gave it a few seconds, as he mulled a reply.

"Good thing then, we did let you in when we did. The mercy you learned from us has made you a better person and commander of troops."

This time the Green Beret turned Biker, turned Criminal, turned Chief Ranger, didn't have a reply. While he knew he was still very brutal when he needed to be he had relearned mercy from the people of Port Town, the First Wave Division agents, and even the Rangers. Mercy being something he forgot when he got tied up in drugs in the military, and then more so when he got out and joined a Motorcycle Club. He was shown it when things went to shit at the FCI on Terminal Island, when Gun had offered the three options of die, leave, or join Port Town. Many had chosen to fight and had been gunned down by the Rangers and the Militia. After that, most had chosen to pass through and find their own way in this new world, but a few had stayed to try life out in Port Town. Roach had gone north to his old club house, the Aerosteel Motorcycle Club, but never made it. He was ambushed by the Tyrants MC, and had taken a gunshot to his gut; he was only saved when a Ranger patrol stumbled across him in a fight with the Tyrants. Despite being outnumbered the Rangers beat back the Tyrants and rescued Roach. After months of recovery, Gun had offered the same deal as before, but this Time Roach decided to find a new life in this strange new reality. He helped around the town until the Rangers had come looking for volunteers, and of course Roach jumped at the chance. Given an opportunity to unleash the pent up anger and brutality, he quickly learned the ways of mercy from the Rangers around him. After learning to control when he could and couldn't unleash his frustration, he rose quickly through the Ranger’s ranks to Captain. It was during one of the attacks the Wardens launched on Port Town and the Iowa that the previous Chief Ranger had been slain, and it was under Roach's leadership that was able to rally the Rangers and help Port Town beat back the Wardens. After this battle, he had been fully accepted by his new family and elected Chief Ranger. He had come full circle and didn't even know how it happened, but here he felt a pride and a calm he had never felt before. This made him happy, and all those be damned that tried to take it from him.

"Gun, You think the Buffalo's Reinforcements have gotten the call for help, before he said their comms network went down?"

"I Hope so, Roach. The three we have left are at their limit and so are our Rangers and Militiamen. Thankfully Charles is here today, while Buffalo and Luke are out there now. Though I think Charles is working With Dr. Hernandez and Dr. Waller today, at the lab in The Iowa."

About that time the rest of the Port Town Council and the Chief Scout of the Rangers arrived. Everyone settled into the meeting as the Sunrise provided a backdrop.

Meanwhile, Port Town awoke as The Ranger Horn and Pipes section came alive to mark the start of a new day with Bugle and War Bagpipes. Not long after the Ranger Outpost started answering back in their own Horn and War BagPipe songs.


Jax "Buffalo" Knight
North of Compton DZ//0600Local

Three Men, 1 Woman, and A dog ran through the streets of LA with the walls of the Compton Dark Zone showing through alleyways to their left. Every now and then one of them would turn around and either fire a few bullets or let an arrow fly at the roughly platoon size element of Wardens chasing them. They had been at this for roughly an hour. In fact, they would have lost the Wardens about 30 minutes ago if the straps on Buffalo’s prosthetic leg hadn’t come undone. A Simple Mistake, a mistake that had gotten them caught when they stopped to help Buffalo get the leg back in position.

He rounded a corner, moved 100 meters down the street, came to a stop, and took a knee while the others passed him by. As they passed, he sighted down the ACOG Scope on his HCAR, and fired off a trio of rounds at the Wardens following them around the corner. One Warden fell with two holes above his plate carrier, and one in his neck. The Other Wardens had dove into cover. Buffalo quickly stood up and raced down the street after Ben and Luke.

Ben saw a building to his left with an opened door. Luke, Miranda, Gumbo and Buffalo followed him.

Megan Clover
Outside of the Eastern Edge of the Greater LA Area, on Interstate 10//0600 Local

Megan looked to her left at the Division agent she had met at Fort Davis, TX. A woman by the name Dani. While the Two had gotten along on their long journey from Arkansas and Louisiana, Meg couldn’t help but feel that Dani was keeping Meg at a distance. Not that Meg minded too much, she had lost a bunch of friends and family herself, but with Dani it felt different. Plus, the only thing she had learned about Dani was that Dani was an EMT and a former Medic in the USAF.

I didn’t know the USAF had medics. Meg had thought to herself when she had been told. As she crested a mountain she was greeted by a sight she had seen in both Dallas-Fort Worth and El Paso, but it was nowhere near the scale. LA looked like a war zone.

She kept following the path ISAC had set as soon as they had gotten within 20 miles of the Greater LA Area. The route was constantly changing to get them the fastest and least cluttered path for the two motorcycles.

“Dani, I think we bit off more than we could chew. Little Rock was nowhere near this bad, and neither was Dallas, or El Paso.”

[Kassaran]

SHD Agent 'Chuck'
150648UJUL16
600m AGL, North Hills

The sun had risen in the east, as it did every day, but the exact location eluded Chuck's eyes as he scanned the scene of devastation and ruin that had befallen the northern Los Angeles basin. Shadows only served to heighten the severity of the ruin and carnage that had been wreaked by looters over the months the pandemic had taken hold, but the occasional rising column of smoke betrayed the presence of the few survivors remaining. He'd heard on the grapevine into the mountains to the north that a large PMC group had taken up residence in the old Burbank Armory, but from what he'd been able to determine- they were most likely JTF turned rogue. As for the other issues of the region, water, food, and all the other necessities of civilization had broken down, along with logistics, when Edwards Air Force Base had been evacuated after only a short time in. Something about a bad chemical spill or accident that had taken the entire base offline. Any forces remaining there had disappeared into the wilderness of the High Desert.

"How much longer?"

He had to shout to be heard over the roar of the engines of the small passenger aircraft he'd found himself crammed into the cabin of. Looking similarly discontent with their seating arrangement, his partner and friend of the last two months shrugged and jabbed a thumb towards the older man in the pilot's seat ahead of them. Agent 'Two-Kay' had long since become a staple part of the daily sights Chuck had come to appreciate. So long as Two-Kay was by his side, there was little they couldn't accomplish by the way of helping others and their entire trip south to Los Angeles had been won on their own hard work and ingenuity. It had come to the point that even Chuck had to acknowledge Two-Kay as an intellectual rival, and professional brother-in-arms. If it came to finally bringing civilization back to Los Angeles, he had the strong feeling that Two-Kay would lend his full support and more to ensure it. The man had all but let Chuck forget about the wonders of modern civilization with every gripe and consequential invention and adhoc device he'd built to replace the old luxuries.

"No fucking clue, you're the one who agreed to let the old codge- uh shit!"

The aircraft suddenly and roughly dropped out of the sky, tens of feet slipping by in a few seconds before levelling back out again, the collective stomachs of the two SHD agents having fully bottomed out against the leather seats their asses had been planted on for the last few hours. Chuck swallowed back against the bile that had quickly risen in his throat while Two-Kay made a rough gesture with his hands, followed by a more simple, easily understandable one that consisted of a single finger raised at the back of the pilot's head. The pilot, after a moment, turned his head to the side, almost in response, but quickly dispelling Two-Kay's rush of fear and embarrassment with his next statement as his weather hands flew across the instrument panel.

"We're on final descent now, get your gear ready Agents! I'm not so sure where you think you're going to find down here, but I wish you luck all the same!"

Sure enough, the tops of the many thousands of residential and low-lying commercial buildings were slowly rising to meet the bottom of the aircraft, and then, just when it seemed the wheels would clip the roofs, they slipped away and only a great open expanse of tarmac lay ahead as the twin-engine Cessna touched down and began to rapidly slow down. Bracing as the jolt shook teeth and bones, the two agents shifted in the back of the aircraft, leaning against their respective doors, readying themselves to jump as the aircraft continued to slow itself down. The pilot had informed them they'd be able to move southwest from Van Nuys airfield to reach the old Port District, but nearly forty miles of looters, wild animals, and gangs ruled the region and they'd be dodging them the whole way through. It was better than risking getting shot down, or hiking in from further out, so they'd taken up the rancher on his offer and now the pilot leaned over in his seat.

"Go! Go! This is as slow as I'll get. Good luck Agents! You know where to find myself and Brooke when you get everything put together!"

Then, as soon as they'd hopped out of the little airplane, they were off at a run across the flat openness of the airfield. The distant roaring of the engines shaking the air behind them, there was a brief crescendo as the aircraft sped back up and soon nothing was left but the sounds of footsteps rushing and their breathing. They'd finally made it and as they slowly approached the Terminal they came to a slow stop, seeing the wreckage of various cars and aircraft that had been piled up around various locations. There was a brief pause as they reached the door, but as they came to a stop, a sharp snap echoed through the air and a pane of glass shattered to their right as a sniper in some unknown hide took a pot shot at the pair. Scrambling for cover, Chuck posted up against the engine block of an old car.

"Well, welcome to sunny LA Two-Kay! Did you manage to see where that shot came from?"

The shout was punctuated by another crack echoing out across the open space of the airport parking ramp as Two-Kay shifted uncomfortably behind the overturned hulk of an old baggage cart. Metal flashed and sparked as the round ground out alongside it, skipping off the frame and peeling away the lighter steel before ricocheting into a distant pile of old suitcases and garbage. Rats scurried out of the pile of refuse and made for other cover as Two-Kay unshouldered his pack and began to sift through it. His eyes were focused, narrowed in concentration as sweat beaded along his brow and he fumbled with a small cylindrical case.

"Yeah, behind us dumbass! Don't know who they were, but they're good. Ex-JTF, likely. We split on three, move for cover each time. Just like in Fresno."

Chuck frowned, his frown turning into a grimace as Two-kay finished speaking, rubbing his hip as he thought on something and peeked over the edge of his automobile refuge.

"I hated Fresno! That plan was bad and you should be ashamed of yourself for suggesting it!"

If the man had the presence of mind to pout in this situation, he most certainly would have, but another bullet skipping across the tarmac and whipping past his head from the sniper had him ducking back into cover.

"You hated Fresno because you didn't think before you ran Chuck! Find some good cover, run straight, none of that zig-zag shit. You ready?"

Two-Kay raised himself into a low crouch, from where he'd been taking a knee. His eyes locking with Chuck's in a moment, the two men slowly nodded, and then spun away from each other as they took off at a dead sprint. Three shots rang out, and ten minutes later, Chuck and Two-Kay were reunited on the far side of the Terminal, within the parking lot. Chuck nursing a fresh cut from a piece of exposed metal he'd cut himself on and Two-Kay looking slightly perspired, but quite whole.

"I told you so. Let's get out of here before that dick gets any funny ideas about relocating somewhere he can get better rounds off at us. The 101's due south of here according to the maps, we'll post up when we get near the old Observatory. Should be able to at least get a better view of the basin while we're there."

Chuck nodded, listening to Two-Kay appreciatively. He'd heard him only get this focused a few times before, and now that the man was back in civilization, or at least its remains, he seemed to be a bit more sure of himself. The man had travelled a little bit, nowhere near as much as Chuck had before they were activated, but he had a good sense of direction and he could almost always find the best vantage spots. He had his uses and honestly, there were days he made Chuck feel useless as an Agent. Then again, Two-Kay still had yet to learn most of the survival skills that were secondhand to himself, but that would come with time.

Nodding between themselves, the two men adjusted their packs, took one last look around, and set off at a slow jog for the old highways for their new destination.

[Vacif]

Agent Joseph Julian “J.J.” Foster
Port Town // 25/07/2016, 0600 Local

---

The SS Aft Alibi sailed hastily towards the Iowa. Neptune, Lady Luck, or whoever was up there seemed to smile upon them as they made exceptionally good time towards LA. It had been a bit of a journey to sail down the coast. The three had plenty to keep busy with between final preparations and board games. The Seattle JTF was courteous enough to set them up with everything they’d need between food, water, survival supplies and entertainment, alongside some other special gifts for their friends in L.A. JJ enjoyed the warmth of the sun coming over the mountains to the east, combined with the pleasant sea breeze as they sailed towards the harbour. There weren’t many things they could enjoy so he took pleasure in enjoying the small things that he could.

As they got within visual distance of the Iowa, JJ looked over at Maya, who was in the cabin with him. “Maya, introduce us, would you?”

“Gladly.” The reporter smiled. She picked up the ship’s radio receiver and began to transmit over the frequency given to them.

SS Aft Alibi: << Port Town Port Authority, this is the SS Aft Alibi to Port Town port authority, carrying a Strategic Homeland Agent and two others. Permission to dock? >>

Port Authority: << We read you, Alibi, you are clear to dock at Pier Three. Have anything to declare? >>

SS Aft Alibi: << Just some care packages from Seattle. Engine conversion kits, radio and spare parts, medicine, a … beehive starter kit? The works. >>

Port Authority: << Helluva gift Agent! Welcome to the City of Angels. >>

This wasn’t exactly proper procedure but given the circumstances, a lot of procedures had been expedited for the Agents as they did their job. Radio and docking procedures were one of these job perks. JJ could rest easy knowing that he essentially had pre-clearance.

“Hey! Are we good to go yet?!” It was Peter, yelling from below deck. The man was Army and much more eager to get off the boat. He had been placid for most of the ride but his eagerness to get his feet on solid ground after over a week of travel by boat was beginning to show after they entered California proper.

“Yeah Pete! Relax, it’s almost over.”

Sailing towards the Pier, he could see a number of personnel ready to receive the Agent and his entourage. Once secured, the trio and their support at the pier began unloading the precious cargo that the team had brought from Seattle. Once they were safely docked, Peter practically flew off the boat and onto the pier. If it weren't for Pete's dignity, JJ was sure the man would have danced or rolled around on the ground. Instead the man tried to hide his haste with a stretch in an attempt to play off his eagerness. “How are things elsewhere Agent?” Asked the man on the dock.

“Almost like the past six months didn’t happen. Folks are rebuilding and recovering. It’s not been easy, but no one said it would be easy. How are things here?” questioned JJ.

The young man was met with a sigh, “I wish I could say it was better, but we’re barely holding on here. Dollar Pox took a toll on us, unreasonably so. Things fell apart real fast. I don’t know what to tell you. But uh, you’re here, so there’s that. You’re the first Third Wave to arrive, pretty early at that. I don’t know what the boss wants you to do in the meantime, so I guess just hang around for a bit until someone calls you to the meeting room for a proper debrief of the situation. There aren’t too many rules here, just use your head and you’ll figure it out, Agent. If you want I can show your team around Port Town after we get this to storage.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Igor. Igor Dzhura.”

“Good meeting you Igor.”

[Hastur]

Daniele Ledoux
Outside of the Eastern Edge of the Greater LA Area, on Interstate 10//0600 Local

---

The route was expectedly muddled, even with the electronically powered dirt travel was stiff as she sewed in and out of whatever cracks in the automobiles that she could find, adhering to the path outlined by the AI ISAC. Dani kept herself fixated on her surroundings, eyes darting left-to-right, scanning everything as she passed. Ears open despite the only distinctive sound being the low purr of the bike’s motor mixed with the intermittent tell-tale pop of gunfire far off in the distance.

She was tense, hesitant about what she’d encounter in Los Angeles. She had never been into the city before everything had disintegrated when the dollar flu had hit. All she had to go off of was pictures, the movies, and that it was the second most populated urban region in the United States. It was the last part that concerned her so much; the SHD overseeing the welfare of a potential population of ten million upwards. Dani had been through hell in Baton Rouge, she’d lost almost everything and spilled blood trying to maintain order there, and that wasn’t even a fraction of the amount of people here.

She couldn’t help but feel that someone had stacked the cards against her. She would have turned around and found a hole to hide in if it wasn’t for McMahon being mobilized in the soup ahead. Her former instructor, during continuation training, she felt obligated to at least try, despite how forlorn it sounded. Her unit’s creed rang in her head as she pushed onward. Bikes crested over the threshold of the mountain, the city now clearly in sight.

The smell struck her first. A noxious cocktail of burning refuse and death wafted with in the breeze as they closed in on the outskirts. She recognised it well; she knew what it signalled. Dani was sure that the summer heat was doing wonders with the undiscovered corpses, which would now be liquifying this many months in. The skyline itself looked picturesque, contrasting against the chaos below, the sky scrappers towering above it all.

“Dani, I think we bit off more than we could chew. Little Rock was nowhere near this bad, and neither was Dallas, or El Paso.”

Her eyes briefly glanced over to her travelling partner, Megan, another division agent, as she spoke. She was a civil engineer, hardly someone she expected to be responding to the call outward. Dani had deliberately kept her distant for most of the trip up, and she wasn’t particularly sure why. She just couldn’t bring herself to open up with her or anyone, for that matter. Perhaps that was for the best.

“We knew it’d be bad.” Dani stated, keeping her eyes on the route ahead. “Lets focus on getting to Port Town.”

Megan was right, as she usually was. Dani wasn’t sure what a refresher of a hand full of agents would even do in this scenario. They’d need a small army of people to bring the city under control, and resources they don’t have.

Keeping focus was more important. She’d seen the omens on the way in, things not too different from Baton Rogue. Signs had been erected and tagged, showing who owned the land they rode upon. They were entering gang territory by the looks of it, a prime place for an ambush, and the pair of them would be easy targets on their bikes.

“Eyes open.” Dani ordered, her hand twisting the grip, accelerating the bike. “We’re entering gang territory.”

[Herador]

Charles Parret
Port Town
25 July, 2016

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Charles was resting. The results from his latest batch-test were still thirty minutes out, if the readout on his ancient CRT screen was anything to go off of, and Charles had found a position in his old office chair that was just divine. It's the little things he decided that get you through it. His lab was nestled deep inside the old Federal Maritime Commission building, it was a long walk to the SHD's headquarters in the Iowa, but it was also far away from snipers, it was secure, and most importantly it had power. It was a small affair, spartan really, and it made Charles miss his old CalTech lab more every day, but it was his and he loved it. Opening one eye just a sliver, Charles peered at the screen again: Results 22% Compiled. Back at CalTech the results would have been up already. With a sigh Charles closed his eye again and settled in, beggars couldn't be choosers.

As he drifted in the space between waking and sleep, he started to wonder about Jax, Ben, Luke, and Miranda, which frankly killed his whole vibe. He'd had a discussion with Gun about it just last night, more of an argument really, and it was still bothering him. What was he supposed to do? The team was somewhere in the Compton DZ, the Rangers wouldn't give him anyone to go in after them, and he sure as hell wasn't going in with just Felicia as back up, she'd only just shot her first person last week and she was still shaken up about it.

"Hope we get more Agents soon." Charles grumbled to himself, sitting up and taking a sip of cold instant coffee. Results? 23% Compiled. "Shit." Charles got up and started to clean his workspace. It was clean already, he had made sure of that before he sat down, but he needed to do something to get his mind off of his missing comrades and the computer. Shifting a bulky centerfuge, Charles began wiping with a clean rag when the door came flying open.

"Charly! The guys at the docks need you, now!"

Looking up slowly, eyeing the area the door had just slammed into, he looked back to his excited assistant. "What's going on Felicia?"

"We have an agent approaching the docks, someone finally showed up. I guess they brought supplies too."

She didn't have to say another word. Strapping on his drop leg holster and sliding in the M9, the two ran outside rushing past Dr. Waller and a few of his aides who tried in vain to ask him about the results he had promised them an hour ago. They jumped into their ride, one of Port Towns' old battery-powered utility vehicles, more or less a golf cart with a small bed for bags or boxes, and tore northeast at the fasted speed the little buggy would go. Finally arriving at the Port Authority, which these days lived in the old Total Terminals building, Charles made his way to the kid manning the radios.

"The agent?" was all Charles managed to blurt out. The kid gave him quick directions and Charles sprinted off again, Felicia close behind.

The cart ground to a halt with a screech in front of the boat and the people swarming around it, one of the dockworkers pointed Charles towards a well-groomed man about his own age with the tell tale smartwatch on his wrist.

"Holy shit," Was all he could manage for a moment, a stupid grin on his face. "Charles Parret," He gestured to himself, "And this is Felicia Bryant. Damn it's good to see you." He extended his hand to the man. "Suppose you already heard things are bad. We're just waiting on a few more folks to show up and then I can give you all the skinny on exactly what's been going on so far."

[Tayner]

Miranda Hastings
North Of Compton // 0600

Shoot.

Miranda fired her weapon at the following wardens as the team pulled back in a bounding retreat. They were grossly outnumbered and outgunned, their only option was to peel back. And so they peeled, firing their weapons, Miranda sweating as she fired. She had long discarded her eye pro, it was fogging up beyond the point of visibility, and frankly, she couldn’t shoot what she couldn’t see. Things had gone wrong.

Move.

She bounded back down the street once it was her turn to do so, taking cover behind a car that had been run up on the sidewalk. She took cover behind the engine bloc of a Chevy Impala, one of the newer ones, not unlike the one she owned back when owning a car was normal. She readied herself as bullets snapped over her head, the unmistakable sound of a near miss becoming today’s motif. She got up and returned fire.

Communicate.

“Set!” She yelled over the gunfire, letting LaForge know it was his turn to pull back. He did, under the cover of his comrades, the man swearing as he similarly dealt with the constant whiz pop of bullets all around him, swearing as he passed by her before taking up his own position in order to return fire. Like clockwork, except for a minor hiccup, the team had been repeating this process for over an hour.

‘Shoot, move, communicate’ was the mantra that the Army had drilled into her head. If a soldier could do these three basic things in sync, then they would prove lethal enough to survive. Kill the enemy before they could kill you. The wardens were sloppy, it was the only excuse as to why they were still alive. They could have been cut off, flanked, or otherwise trapped dozens of times by now. But finally the team ran out of steam, and they found themselves heading into a store, effectively trapping them in. Their only saving grace was that hopefully they could hold out long enough for help to arrive.

“Hastings, cover the door!” LaForge ordered as he went into the back of the building, likely to assess routes of escape or at the very least block the enemy from coming in. Miranda took cover behind something that looked solid, before taking aim at the door.

“Shit. What now?” She asked as she looked over to Knight.

[Anowa]

Agent Wolfram Herrman and Hunter Czajkowski
Interstate 10, Eastern Edge of Metro LA // 25-07-2016, 0602 local
▶ The Master's Call - Marty Robbins

Interstate 10 wasn't a good route in hindsight. Traffic ended up clogged to shit by Salton Sea, it was expected, and also the primary reason their method of travel was designed for offroad travel. So they were simply driving along the side of the highways and whatnot, they had the fuel for it, and they had the tires. Every so often they'd end up having to drive over a sedan or something on a bridge on the way, but so far it had been rather smooth.

So far, their planned route was to follow Interstate 10 until Beaumont, then they'd head south to Dana Point, move along the beach, and arrive at Port Town by the end of tomorrow. It was a somewhat generous time frame, but they could muscle through the mountains if need be. It was infinitely better than snaking through the MOUT Hell that Interstate 10 went through.

Wolfram nudged the man in the passenger seat, waking the mute for the third time that day, "Bikers up ahead."

They were a problem in Imperial county. Bad enough that the duo elected to detour back through Yuma and head north of the Salton Sea rather than go south. So seeing them up here wasn't so much a surprise. Mildly unexpected, sure, but just two of them wouldn't be much of a concern.

As Hunter stood and climbed in to the bustle, a few seconds passed as the Humvee accelerated on the side of the road.

Wolfram was more than happy to blow past them and only engage if they shot back, but a boot to the shoulder changed that plan.

A quick shoulder glance and the visage of an SHD watch being shaken on Hunter's wrist indicated that the younger man saw something Wolfram didn't, namely the SHD gear the duo had. It wasn't unheard of for outlaws to kill agents and steal their gear. But the ones who did that usually made a point to do it more than once.

The Humvee rapidly slowed as Wolfram pulled on to the now surprisingly cleared highway and pulled maybe 20 meters behind the duo of bikers. Where Wolfram could clearly see they had the full set of visible gear SHD agents were supposed to have. ISAC's ping as well as the IFF popping up once they were in range signified that they were in fact friendly.

Creeping in closer Wolfram pulled alongside the duo and popped the ballistic glass window on the ash color Humvee down, Marty Robbins faintly echoing from within the vehicle. On the door was the insignia of the Arizona Rangers, and in some places a hastily stenciled insignia of the SHD.

Wolfram spoke up, "Port Town I'm guessing?"

[Kyraina]

Jax "Buffalo" Knight
Department Store North of Compton DZ//0610

"We find a way out of here. The Wardens are gonna sit up a perimeter and will bring in an assault team to take us out. I want to be gone before the assault team gets here."

Buffalo pulled the crusader shield off of his back, and put the HCAR in its slot. They had been heading to a community that called itself Tesla, and when they arrived they saw the community destroyed and were ambushed by a platoon strength unit of Warden Troops. Their little group had whittled down the numbers over the past hour of a running gun fight, but Buffalo knew they was getting low on ammo.

"Gumbo, go help Ben."

The Black Lab/Blue Heeler Mix Dog ran off into the store.

Ben meanwhile had ran deeper into the store and was looking for a path out of their current situation. He had checked the alleyway behind the store and had seen Wardens already sealing the alley off. He was about to enter the basement when He heard a bark and turned around to see Gumbo running up to him.

Ben kneeled down and petted the Dog.

"Alright boy. Let's find a way out of here."

Ben and Gumbo went down into the basement, and found a grate into a drain system, but the grate was rusted in place. Ben quickly went back up stairs, and noticed a ladder off to the Right. He climbed up the ladder and was surprised when the hatch opened easily on the roof, and footprints left on the roof. He climbed out of the hatch and found a bridge running from the store to a different building, through a broken window and onto the second floor of the next building

He went back down the ladder.

"Buffalo, Luke, Miranda. Come Back here I got us a way out!!"

Buffalo heard the yell from Ben and the footsteps as Ben ran back up to them, followed by Gumbo.

"What do you got Ben?"

"Ladder goes to the roof. There's boards that run from here to a building on the south side, from there I don't I haven't crossed yet to find out."

"Go Find out. Gumbo Stay"

"Copy that Buffalo."

Ben took off running back down the hall and back to the ladder.

'’Hastings, LaForge. Get ready to move."

Ben climbed back up the ladder, drew his Longbow, nocked an arrow, and creeped towards the bridge to the building next door, making sure to stay below the lip of the walls on the roof of the store. The bridge turned out to be a few 2x4 with plywood running along it, and the same materials made up the railing. He poked his head up and saw a group of wardens below, but they were focused on something below against the store wall. He skirted across the bridge, and into the second floor of the building next to them. He quickly scouted the building, and saw a way out, but the way out lead into the Carson DZ
He quickly ran back to the hatch, where Jax waited at the foot of the ladder.

“Buffalo, we are good to cross, but the Way out of that building leads to the Carson DZ”

“Copy that Ben. Luke, Hastings, Ben’s got us a way out of here, but we have to go into the DZ. Let’s move people!!!!”

Buffalo grabbed the handle on Gumbo’s harness and hauled both himself and Gumbo to the Roof. He sat Gumbo down and drew back out his HCAR.

“ISAC, Cue DJ.”

“Agent Buffalo, There are new Agents in the Area. I will patch them into DJ as well.”

ISAC proceeded to Patch in the New agents into the Local Comms.

Buffalo: <<DJ, Buffalo, Come in.>>

DJ: <<Buffalo, DJ Here.>>

Buffalo: <<DJ, Buffalo. We are going to enter the Carson DZ from the North West Corner, We are being trailed by a platoon size element of Wardens. How Copy?>>

DJ: <<Buffalo, DJ. 5x5, I will let Charles and Roach know. Good Luck out there.>>

Buffalo: <<Copy that. Any Agents that have Just arrived in LA. Get to the USS Iowa, Meet up with Agent Charles and Chief Ranger Roach. Buffalo out. We might need y’alls help getting out.>>

Hastings, and Luke came up behind him.

“Good News, Help arrived in LA. Bad News, welp it's gonna be awhile till we see it.”

Ben, Gumbo, and Buffalo stood up and sprinted across the bridge, and into the building, with Luke and Miranda right behind him. The Group ran through the building, and came to a ramp that went to the top of the DZ wall.

Ben, and Buffalo put on their mask, and Buffalo put one on Gumbo as well.

“Alright here it goes.”

The two dropped down into the DZ. ISAC started doing its weird thing related to the DZ.

ISAC: “Transmissions jammed, proximity coverage only. Backup activated. System rebooted.”

Buffalo: “Alright people Keep Frosty. Miranda, Luke take the lead.”

---

Megan Clover
Megan was about to reply when she heard the rumble of a diesel engine, and then a humvee was next to them.

"Port Town I'm guessing?"

“We are on our way there. We ain’t from around these parts. We coming from Arkansas and Louisiana. We are just answering the call for help. What about you?”


ISAC: “Attention Imbound Transmission from LA Division Agents.”

Buffalo: <<DJ, Buffalo, Come in.>>

DJ: <<Buffalo, DJ Here.>>

Buffalo: <<DJ, Buffalo. We are going to enter the Carson DZ from the North West Corner, We are being trailed by a platoon size element of Wardens. How Copy?>>

DJ: <<Buffalo, DJ. 5x5, I will let Charles and Roach know. Good Luck out there.>>

Buffalo: <<Copy that. Any Agents that have Just arrived in LA. Get to the USS Iowa, Meet up with Agent Charles and Chief Ranger Roach. Buffalo out. We might need y’alls help getting out.>>

“I’m Megan, This is Dani. It looks like we need to hurry up whoever y’all are.”

ISAC: “Attention New Agents, Welcome to Las Angeles. There are currently friendly Forces known as LA Rangers, or Rangers for short, engaged with an enemy faction. They are in need of assistance. Patching y'all into Friendly comms now.”

Ranger Patrol Commander: <<Who is this?>>

Megan: <<Division Reinforcements, My name is Agent Megan Clover>>

Ranger Patrol Commander: <<Thank Fucking God. This is Captain Ron Welker of the LA Rangers. We are currently engaged with a group known as the Desert Rats at Exit 93 of Interstate 10, We are in need of assistance. We are outnumbered 25 to 8>>

Megan: <<Copy that Capt Walker. We are inbound. Agent Clover out>>

“Looks like we get to make a good first Impression on the locals.”

[Vacif]

Charles Parret
Port Town
25 July, 2016
The cart ground to a halt with a screech in front of the boat and the people swarming around it, one of the dockworkers pointed Charles towards a well-groomed man about his own age with the tell tale smartwatch on his wrist.

"Holy shit," Was all he could manage for a moment, a stupid grin on his face. "Charles Parret," He gestured to himself, "And this is Felicia Bryant. Damn it's good to see you." He extended his hand to the man. "Suppose you already heard things are bad. We're just waiting on a few more folks to show up and then I can give you all the skinny on exactly what's been going on so far."

Unloading the house warming gifts were going fairly fast, everything had been neatly packed for them prior by the JTF and there hadn't been much need to really unpack anything else from their boat. If the locals didn't provide them with lodgings they could very easily just keep sleeping on the boat. But he figured he'd see what the locals had for them before he started unpacking. Though somehow he got the feeling Pete would be more than happy to accept any kind of board so long as it was on solid ground.

JJ met Charles halfway, and grasped his hand for a shake. "Joseph Julian Foster, call me JJ. Over there is Maya Radić and Peter Belous. Maya's a reporter-"

"An award winning journalist." Maya interjected, offering a friendly wave as disembarked the boat.

"And Peter is the resident beekeeper and actually combat capable person here." Peter gave them a nod as they walked past to stretch his legs. "Yeah we heard from Igor the gist of the situation. You guys got it rough. I guess lead the way. "

Wasn't long before a radio broadcast came through both of their respective radios however. To JJ at least, there was a bit of an awkward silence as he was already here with Charles. "Uh, now what? I guess meet Roach? Whoever he is?"