Loonz Morrow Project Pages

Monday, October 18, 1999


[PBEM] [Turns]

Prologue


Welcome to the Project

 At he meeting point your greeted by a woman of middle age, blonde and with
the smile sincere as any  mother could wear.  Wearing jeans, with a denim
jacket and a crisp white blouse.
 "Hello my name is Betty Johnson" smiling as if to tell you from the start
that's not her real name "and I'll be your MI facilitator.  Welcome to the
team." <She hands you a small leather wallet about the size of a passport>
"That packet contains your Morrow Bank Platinum Visa", <she explains>" you
have a $8,000 credit limit  to enjoy yourself for 4 weeks. Your to be at
that location" <motioning to the wallet> "on February 27th where our contact
team will meet you.  You'll then be transported to your training site.
Anything you want stored for your PCK have it mailed to that address <again
motioning to the wallet> and it will meet you during training. "[Size
limitations were covered at the recruitment meeting]
 "Also in the packet is your MI health care card" <again to the wallet>
"keep it with you at all times, if your injured we'll be alerted by it's
usage.  Also there's a telephone credit card for our 888 number if you use
it someone can be at the phone your using within 24 hours if needed.
Probably much less.  Doesn't matter if your stranded or assaulted use it.
If your robbed and you lose this kit just call Visa and report your card
stolen the Project will contact you with replacements.  Questions...<warm
smile... pause>No? Well..."<offers one last hand clasp>
 "Enjoy yourself and one of us will see you on the 27th, and remember
sweetheart mums the word not even loved ones."
 With that said she turns walks away....not looking back....

Contents of the Kit:
1 Morrow bank Platinum Visa
1 Morrow Health Care
1 AT&T personal 888 card.
1 business card of a Mail Boxes Etc in Columbia SC.
1 business card for a non descript hotel, in a non descript area, in a non
descript city.  Cincinnati, Omaha, Yacama, Dover, Montgomery, Flagstaff etc.


The Chaperone

Sylvie Ferguson sauntered down the hall, her dark hair bouncing on her shoulders with an upward curl that nobody had worn since 1975. Her skin was thoroughly tanned, even for a half-Mexican Texan, which she was. The man walking alongside her was a member of her new team, Dennis Jacob "DJ" Lee, she knew that much from the medical folder she'd been given to study, but they hadn't really had the chance to talk yet. Neither of them had met anyone else from their forthcoming Recon Team assignment either.
DJ was a fit man of mixed asian-caucasion heritage, standing about five inches taller than her own 5'5" frame. She chuckled inwardly as she considered what some people might have to say about the Project's eugenics - welcome to the world of mutts.
The man leading them was John Fisk, a Morrow Project orientation facilitator, which was a polite way of saying "babysitter" as far as Sylvie was concerned. Both she and DJ wore dark gray MP coveralls with Recon insignia, the all seeing "Eye of Hourus." John's coveralls, like those of all the training base personnel, bore an orange patch denoting the Training Branch.
Entering the lounge area, they spotted Marty Stoddard, one of the orientation department heads, ("Chief babysitter," thought Sylvie) sitting with a spindly blonde woman wearing a cast on one arm.
Marty rose to greet them, as did the blonde. A wave of giddy anxiety emanated from her palpably. "Hi you two," said Marty pleasantly, in the way that psych types usually do, "how you been getting along..."
It had been a week or so since she'd seen Marty, and he seemed
determined to chitchat her to death, probably working up another psych
report on her "readiness and readjustment." Sylvie's eye kept wandering
back to the blonde, who looked to be about ready to bust open if Marty
didn't shut up pretty soon and let her talk.
"Oh my, my manners," he said finally, "I'd like you two to meet Kim,
Kim Russel." Sylvie reached out and took the other woman's hand in
greeting. The relief in the lady's face was evident. "She cryo'd in 79'
and has been up and about for about a year and a half. She's been having a
terrible case of cabin fever here, and she has insisted she get to
stretch her legs.  We agreed to allow her and John," Fisk smiled at the mention
of his name, "to take a regular R & R tour for a few weeks.  She and the
rest of us thought you two could use some eye ball liberty yourselves.
So here..."
Sylvie's eyes went wide as he handed each of them a  small leather wallet about the size of a passport.
"Liberty, as in liberty on the *outside*?" she sputtered.
Marty smiled, "Enjoy yourselves you two." He patted both of them on the
shoulder as he went to leave. Sylvie didn't mind, but she sensed that DJ
didn't appreciate anyone laying hands on him.
"John they're all yours..."
"Hi, I'm Kim" says the blonde, her eyes welling to near tears as she
offers her hand. "Marty's been putting me off on this trip for seven
months till I found out about you two. Then I cut such a fit I thought
they'd be sure I was trippin'.  God, I am so glad they woke you two!"
She sits on the couch as John sits down with her, offering a comforting
arm. "Well," he said, "where do you kids wanna go?"
Sylvie sits down on the edge of the comfortable chair across from the
couch, leaning forward on her knees. "God, Kim, ah don't know. Ah mean,
they jus' as good as told me that there was no way in Hell I was gettin'
outta here before they dropped me in the ground again." She smiles a
wicked smile. "I guess you must throw a better fit than me."
DJ didn't sit, but instead stood at the periphery of the group, close
enough to not be rude, but far enough to signal that he was not
interested in participating in the conversation. After a few minutes of giddy talk about everything that must be different, and how great it would be to wear real clothes for a while,
they parted company, agreeing to meet shortly at the front of the
building.
Sylvie and DJ, being quartered in the same wing, walked together.
DJ scratched his head as they walked, tousling his unkempt hair,
thinking.
"What's the matter, soldier? Liberty after so long seems kind of
strange huh?"
He looked over, seeming to consider whether he really had to answer her
or not, "What day and year is it again?"
Sylvie, realized with some small degree of shock, that she didn't know.
"Gee, y'know I'm not really sure. It's 1995, but I haven't kept track of
the days very well. It's not like we get Saturdays off and have to
remember the bosses birthday is it, hmm?" She smiled, trying to bring
the man out a bit, and felt a little too much like a shrink.
He grunted under his breath. "What is your role in this little project
anyway?"
"Well, I'm just a nurse, but I like to think I'm a good one."
"Well that's good to hear, at least there's some medical personnel
here... How many of my 20 questions have I used up?"
She smiled and answered in her friendliest Texan drawl, "Take as many
as you like, Darlin'."
DJ looked around with a furrowed brow.
"What's that for?"
"What what for?"
"That sour look, Hon. You look like you swallowed a horned toad. What's
bugging you?"
"Well I guess I'm starting to think about what I need and want to do.
I just don't feel over smiley at the moment, haven't done it in a
while." DJ considers his words for a moment, "I don't mean to insult
you, or hurt your feelings, but I expected VERY different circumstances
when I awoke. I can't talk to my family, too much pain and
disorientation there, and all this extra time on my hands could really
get to me if I'm not careful."
DJ looked at her, still thinking about more questions and conversation,
then decided to let Sylvie talk for a bit, thinking over his options...
"That's perfectly allright with me. I've been through plenty of
unsmiley times in my days. My family isn't lookin for me, or me for them
either." Sylvie looks up into his eyes with genuine friendship. "We're
gonna be in this boat together, soldier. You're gonna be puttin'
yourself between me and a lotta harm on the odd occasion, and unlike a
lotta folks, I aim to appreciate it. I'll start by telling you to relax,
come with us, and I promise you'll have more fun than you think."
"Yea, I guess 'bugged' does sort of describe me at the moment. And as
for covering your, uh, butt, that's not a problem."
Sylvie laughed, "You're coming with us then, right?"
"I'd love to go, but you'll have to forgive me if I don't get to
chummy, I'm not much in the 'warm and fuzzy' category."
Sylvie decided to steer the conversation away from the present
situation, "Where'd you do your time soldier? I served in Qui Nhon, Chu
Lai, and then mostly An Khe."
"I'd rather not go into that, that was a long time ago..."
"Not for me it wasn't."
"Well if you look at if from our perspective not but a few years, but
by today standards it's been decades."
"I live by my own standards. I think you do too if I read you right."
DJ listened to Sylvie with half his attention, thought about the rest
of his situation with the other, and decided he'd rather have her keep
talking and let him be quiet for awhile. "What do you mean?"
She considered, took a deep breath, "I mean, I've done a lot of things,
and those things have shaped me. It doesn't matter how long ago they
were, they're still a part of me. In fact the longer ago, the more
they're a part of me, deeper down. does that make sense?"
"Sure, makes sense. Those places you mentioned, did you nurse at all of
them?"
"Oh yeah. That's what I did in the Army. 66-72. I hit in country right
before Tet. That was a great way to be introduced to wartime medicine."
"Hmuph, you probably stitched up some of my friends..., do you regret
any of those 'shaping' moments?"
Sylvie pursed her lips and took a breath, thinking. They'd reached the
intersection where they should part ways, but neither seemed ready to be
done yet. She leaned on the wall, facing slightly away from him. DJ
stood behind her, his eyes on her.
She swallowed hard, "Does it matter now?"
"Sure it matters... That had to be pretty brutal."
She grinned and turned to face hi again, chuckling. "That's funny
coming from a soldier. I always thought I had it easy in a way. And yes,
I guess you're right, it does matter, but I guess I meant that you can't
change it anyway. Best to learn and go on, but you can't leave those
times and places... and people... behind because they're always a part
of you now."
"I'm sure your job wasn't easy, in any way."  DJ stopped, considering
continuing, then decided to let it drop, starting to focus his thought
more on the task at hand.
Sylvie picked up his signal without missing a beat, realizing she
couldn't face this conversation as well as she'd thought she could. She
started thumbing through the contents of the wallet, pulling out a
credit card. "What's VISA? Looks like a Bank-Americard."
"I'll bet it's some sort of new form of money, like a smart card or
something." DJ held out his hand to take a look at the card, turning it
over in his hand he examined it, angling the hologram on the front to
catch the light a few times.
"Weird. I guess that's why we need some hand holdin' eh?" She turned to
go, "I'm gonna go get packed up and make sure I don't forget anything.
Are you comin?"
"I guess, but what are we going to buy?  I mean are you just going to
go out and buy clothes with it?  I'd like to look into getting to a
library or a bookstore and do some reading, there's a heap of questions
screaming around in my head."
"Well, if you're going to sleep in a hole for the next ten years, it'd
be nice to be able to afford a decent hotel. We might not see one for a
while."
DJ looked thoughful, "Sure, but I still don't know where you're going."
"Me neither, but I'm gettin outta here before someone changes their
mind!"
With a shrug, DJ wandered away down the hall. Sylvie watched him
retreat, then with a shrug of her own, headed for her own quarters.
"Darn," she thought, "I meant to ask Kim why she has a cast on her
arm..."


Sylvie's Vacation

Sylvie rode in the back seat of the rented oldsmobile, admiring
the digital dashboard displays over John and DJ's shoulders. The panel
looked like a spaceship right out of a movie. Beside her, Kim squirmed in
the seat, happy to be on their way, but still a bundle of boundless
energy. Sylvie knew she wouldn't relax until they'd cleared the forrested
zone that surrounded the training center and actually driven into
honest-to-God civilization.
John turned on the radio and jabbed a button with his finger.
Sylvie watched the digital display cycle forward, searching for a station.
The familiar rising and falling squeal and static she was used to was not
to be heard from this new radio - it hunted in silence. Finally it locked
onto a station, just as the disk jokey was announcing a new hit. Sylvie
wasn't sure she'd heard the man right, but when the music started, her
eyes grew wide.
"Hey! That's Elton John!"
"Yes it is," John said with a half-smirk.
"He's still popular on the radio?"
He grinned broadly, "Sure, and so is Cher, and Paul McCartney, and
Billy Joel, and believe it or not, Michael Jackson." Sylvie sat back in
the seat, blinking.
Kim smiled over at her, "The more things change, the more they
stay the same, right?"

* * * * * * *

The Mall was cavernous to Sylvie's perception, in spite of John's
assertion that it was an average example. They'd left the guys at the
Barnes and Noble bookstore where DJ was intent on going through the latest
books on a number of subjects, letting Sylvie and Kim take some time to
shop for some new clothes to wear on their vacation.
Sylvie had barely more than the one set of civilian attire she'd
taken into cryo the first time, and after the tenth complement on her
"cool retro" look, she was more than ready to drop some of her 'allowance'
on a new wardrobe.
"Wow, everything is so expensive," she whispered to Kim while the
purchases were being packaged up.
"Inflation, I guess."


DJ's Vacation

DJ takes the front seat and realizes that this lets the girls talk in the
back, which is fine, he's not feeling very talkative.  He mentally going
over the subjects he's hoping to get some information about.  He
distractedly hear's the radio, blaring out a familar voice, but a very
different beat.  He smiles to himself, "Elton John", "Cher", and even "Paul
McCartney" are almost familar names, he wonders about some of his favorites
but then promptly pushes those thoughts back.  "I've got to focus", he
mumbles to himself.
"What's that?"  John asks.
"Oh, just trying to keep my mind on the task at hand.  There's a lot of
changes I've got to get used to, at least for a few months."
John smiles, "Yea, I'll bet this is something of a challenge for you, just
take your time and let me know if I can help"

DJ looks seriously over to John, "I hope your serious about that, because
while the fads and fashion aren't to big of a deal, the innovations and
advancements in engineering are going to take me years to get up to date on,
unless I have some guideance.  I'm hoping you can help me with that."

John looks DJ over with a puzzled look, "I'd be glad to help you.  But
you've got to lighten up a bit, this isn't war."

DJ receedes back into his mind, says, "Yea, I guess you're right", and then
gets back to his mental checklist, hoping that John isn't interested in any
further conversation.  Luckly, John is having to fight some of the mall
traffic so has his hands full.

DJ is amazed at the sight of the 'Mall', he's never seen a shop, or even a
bunch of shops, slammed together in such a huge complex.  He's initally
upset that so many resources are used up in such a way.  The building looks
solid, but not meant for any long-term use.  Like it was meant to look good
for a few years then rebuilt.  As DJ enters into the mall he's shocked by
the number of shops and the number of people.  When he and John enter into a
nice quiet bookstore, DJ relaxes slightly and sets to going through his
checklist.

While he's going through the shelves he pumps John for some more info.
"Hmm, it's to bad all these books have to be so big and heavy, I'll never be
able to take them with me, is there any sort of person 'microfishe' reader
out there?  Something that I could take with me without all the weight?"

As John concentrates on the 'Non-Fiction' shelves, he distractedly says,
"Well I'm sure we could probably but something together on 'microfishe' if
you want that, but you'd probably be better with a computer."

DJ looks up with something of a smile, "Oh yea, we could just build another
room to put it into, that'd be interesting"

John, puzzles out what DJ is saying, "No, computers are now very portable,
and they have things called CD's or compact disks that hold mountains of
information on a small disk, smaller than a 45 record.   You ought to look
into getting a laptop or a palmtop, those you could even take with you into
the bolthole"

DJ realizing that John isn't just pulling his leg, smiles broadly, "Oh
really.  This is something I've got to see.  If I recall correctly, there
was a group of scientist and colleges that put together a net of some sort.
Can the MP get me into that somehow?"

John seeing real excitement on DJ face for the first time smiles a knowing
smile, "DJ my friend, I'll bet we can work something out.  Perhaps if this
trip goes well and we're back before dinner, we can hook you onto the
internet by say 7:00 PM."
John laughs as he watches the puzzlement go across DJ face, "Sorry don't
mean to laugh at you, but if you could see the look on your face..."
John tries to steady himself on one of the shelves and just about knocks it
over.

DJ still puzzled but enjoying the laughter of John and the evil looks that
the clerks are giving them both.
"Hey I've got some decent reading material here, let's get out of here
before you knock down the whole place and I spend all my money on books I
can't take with me"

John finally getting ahold of himself nods and they pay and leave.


DJ and John leave the bookstore with DJ loaded down with technical manuals
and John carrying a few paperbacks.

DJ, now starting to really get interested in these laptop computers John was
mentioning, starts really pushing John for some info.
"So are these 'Personal Computers' really small enough to fit on a desk and
fast enough to do any decent number cruching?  I mean they've got to be hard
on the wallet right?  And do these 'CD's wear out after time?  Can they
really fit in my personal space, and can I create these CD or do I have to
rely on somebody else to put the data on the 'disk'?  If I do have one and
the PC makes it through the cyro time, how can I create paper copies for
myself and others to read?  Is there some sort of limit to the amount of
data it can hold?  I recall they used to measure computer information in
kilobytes, is that still the case?  What is..."

"Whoa, whoa there big boy", John interjects.
"Sounds like we've got us a real nerd in the works here.  Ok, let me answer
some of your questions first, then we'll wander over to them and see what
tickles your fancy."

John takes a breath and tell DJ of all the advances that PC have undergone
over the last few years, he explains things like the internet and E-mail.
DJ asks quick pointed questions when John pauses and most John answers
without incident, but some he tells DJ that he'll have to come up with
himself.

Once they hit the computer store, DJ is in heaven.  He sticks to John as he'
s the only person that isn't trying to sell him something.   After much
debate and some hassle, DJ and John leave with DJ's new laptop and all the
accessories that DJ had to had to get right to work.  The rest of the
accessories DJ and John decided the he could mail order or find cheaper than
retail.

(OOC, Peter, do I need to give specs here or should I just leave the details
for later?)

DJ seems to have found a purpose for himself while he waits for training to
start.  He's looking forward to some PT, a little time on the range, and the
rest of the time attempting to catch up with the rest of the world.

DJ and John joke and talk as they wait for the women to come back.  Having
already gone to the car and deposited the purchases, and now walking
unemcumbered they wander into a few clothing shops where DJ gets a few new
clothes, nothing fancy, just the basics, much to the 'Gap' girls dismay.  DJ
starts to get over the size and population of the 'mall' just as the women
arrive, looking like they've purchased not a few items, but one of the
smaller clothing stores.

DJ seeing the women first smiles as they seem to still be shopping even
after there doesn't seem to be any way they could carry anything else.  He
attempts to not look impatient as he waits for them to surrender to the fact
that there's little else they could fit in the car without somebody being
left behind.

DJ tries to split his thoughts between listening to the women talk of their
adventures and determining the priorities of his evening with his new toy...


Raymonds Vacation

Raymond steps out of the MD-10 at Dannelly field in
his home city of Montgomery, Alabama. The instructions
have been to a non-descriptive city. It is sunny and
mild today and it has been 15 years since he last came
here. Montgomery is a small town with two airforce
bases. The bases house the staff training college and
the Air Force's computer center. They will be prime
targets in an exchange. Raymond wants to see his
hometown one last time before he goes to sleep.
Raymond has a reservation at Ramada Inn on the
eastside of town. He was surprise at how much the town
has grown. When he left the eastside was just cattle
land and cotton fields, not its shopping centers, strip
malls, and even a Shakespeare Festival.

"Montgomery has come a long way", Raymond thinks.

After checking into his room Raymond decided to see if
some of his old hangouts are still there. First stop
Bama gunshop on the southside of town. Amazingly not
only it's still exists, its still own by Baba Richards.


"Baba, You remember me? I am Raymond"
"Rayman, its been a long time! What yall upta?"
After spending about 20 minutes talking about each
other Raymond look around.
"So how's business?"
"Ya, its been soso," said Baba, "hey, you still collect
guns?" Raymond nods. "I have this new toy here call a
P90. Newest stuff from Europe. It suppose to replace
handguns." Said Buba as he come back from the vault.
The P90 looks weird. It is a bullpup pistol like weapon
with a clear plastic magazine on top, the whole weapon
is about 15 inches long. Looking at the magazine
Raymond ask, "that's not 9 mm is it?"
"No, that's a 5.7 by 28 mm round, those people thing
the 9 mm is outmoded and develop this new cartridge
with a muzzle velocity of 850 compared to the 9mm's 400
or so. Its fully auto too! Here try it."
It was a great gun thought Raymond after he play with
it at the firing range.
"Hey how much you want for it, Buba?"
"$5000 for the gun another $100 for the magazine."
"What! That's highway robbery!"

 After about 20 minutes of haggling like old fishwifes
Raymond is poorer by $3,000. He gave Buba his mailing
address, say his good byes and left. It is now six in
the evening, so Raymond decided to go eat.


Sylvie and Raymonds Briefing


The small office was cramped for both Sylvie and Raymond to work in, but it was all that they had until the rest of their team arrived and they got assigned a bunkroom for the ten of them. Of course the workspace attached to the bunkroom would be even smaller, and the space to work inside the V-300 vehicle their team would be operating out of would be even smaller yet. It was like a training regimen, in a way. Working down.
Raymond had been notified that he'd been selected for a Team Leader slot just after reporting back from his leave. Now he had only a pair of his team in residence, with the rest picked out, but not yet reported in. Fortunately one of them was his assigned XO, Sylvie Ferguson, a former US Army Nurse with experience in Vietnam.
The rest of the team they knew only from the sparce notes they'd been given. Now they were trying to make assignments for crew duties, but it wasn't going well.
Looking up from the papers, Raymond spoke up, "In danger of sounding like a old nagging woman, did you finish you PCK list yet?"
"I keep thinking of new things to add to it."
"You and Dennis had leave together, right?"
"He goes by DJ, but I wouldn't say 'we' did anything. That guy is about as friendly as a frightened polecat. I had to talk him into taking leave, and two days out I almost wished I'd shut up and let him stay here."
"According to the notes we have here, he's a bit parnoid... remember he was revived because of a suspected flaw in his cryo tube."
"Well, lots of people have an aversion to cryo, but you only have to get over it once... well, most people only have to get over it once." Sylvie was, like DJ, one of the limited number of people to have been brought up from cryo and scheduled to be reslotted.
Raymond, hesitated, then mentioned the next iten on his agenda, "Oh, and we'll probably issue him a really big gun."
"What?"
"He's a sniper by training. Sneaky when he's alone, and has an ungodly skill with a rifle. Procurement says he can have his pick of sniper systems."
"Fine with me. Hope we never need his skills."
"It will be helpfull, think of it this way. You and him will hang back as the contact team goes in and make contact. Something goes wrong and the natives are out for blood. Boom, Boom, Boom, those shots ought to keep the natives back from the contact team."
"Jesus, Ray," Sylvie, pursed her lips, taking a second to put her words in order, then looked Raymond in the eye, "the natives are Americans. Us." With a near imperceptible tremble in her voice she continued, "Things will be very very fucked up if we have to start shooting the people who are lucky enough to survive the war."
"Better be over prepared than under prepared. All plans go FUBAR as soon as the 'stuff' hits the fan. Plus its just good planning."
"Okay. I just think that sometimes there's a tendency to push the situation farther if you've 'planed for it.' Ya know what I mean?" She shrugs. "I understand trying to be prepared, though."
"That's why you're next to DJ. You're the fail-safe and the on-site CIC. That's also why you talk direct to Deborah via the PCS. Our first priorty is survival so we can help others that need us. It does us and the people our mission wants us to help no good if we run afoul of the first group of 'renegades'."
"Right, I understand. It just makes me step back a pace when we start talking about shooting people. I understand the necessity to
protect ourselves. I appreciate you respecting my point of view, Ray."
"I respect anyone who has seen the elephant, Sylvia. We do not want to shoot people, but sometimes people shoot back."
Sylvia nodded, and went back to the sorting of the medical record forms and equipment lists.
Raymond looked over sereptitiously at the forms she was working on, "By the way, did you finish your personal contact pack list. I need to submit that to logistics."
"Is it, due now?" She digs in her pocket and hand him a folded piece of paper with handwritten notes on it.
"I just want a general idea to speed up the requistion process. Don't forget you can have an additional firearm thats SMG or smaller." He scanned the list and commented without looking up, "Don't forget to pack some winter clothes."
"I packed a rancher style coat with one of those big fleecy collars, and some sweats. How cold does it get in Virginia? And how much are we gonna be in the contact gear?"
"Who knows what nuclear war will do to the weather, but do remember about nuclear winter." He finished looking down the list and handed it back. "Also I don't think we will have enough sun and heat for a swim."
"Well, hey, maybe we'll have nuclear summer." She gave Ray a sidelong look, "And just who's givin' *your* choice of gear the once over, hmm?" She tapped her foot expectantly.
"Err, I'm practical about my gear. In theroy the nuclear winter that war brings around will bring on a new ice age, but according to
calculations that will not start until about 200 years after the war ended."
Sylvie diplomatically allowed him to change the subject. "So I should start knitting sweaters for the great grandkids?"
"No, but I would keep in mind that it might be cold once we are out of the hole. Remember it takes about 3 to 5 years for the dust caused
by the bombs to settle, and before it settles it's going to be dark and cold out there."
"As I understand it, some teams won't be out of the ground for 3-5 years minimum. Wouldn't they want to keep us in the ground until the
worst was over, as far as dust clouds and massive contamination goes? Granted, Recon is new to me, so I'm learning. How much do you know about the deployment plans for our team, Ray?"
"Not much, ma'am, but the bolt hole computer will not let us out of the hole until its safe. Do note that we will be in a target rich area so
we might spend more time in the hole that 3 to 5. Don't also forget with the mountains to the west and the sea to the east we will probably not get much of the clouds, since the jet stream blows east."
"I guess that's why we have nuclear specialists and such in the team. I don't know much about meteorology and jet streams, really. I'm a good listener though."
"The weather is mostly Su's job, I am inculded in this team due to the nature of the area - target rich."
"Any idea when we're gonna get those full personnel folders from Admin? I feel kinda blind plannin' without all the details on the
team. Those notes they sent us were pretty thin."
"Sorry, I haven't hear anything from Adminstration or Personnel either. I'd send the request again if I were you, ma'am."
"C'mon Ray, I'm 25 years old. I'm not ma'am to anyone who's taller than my beltline."
"Just being polite. You do outrank me in Uncle's store."
"Aw, my goodness. You know I didn't even think of that. I think we're gonna have to rely on what's decoratin' these sleeves we're wearin
now." She smiles sweetly, "Though I got to say you've mighty fine manners. That'll get a body far in Texas."
"I was born in Alabama, we're taught to respect ladies down there, ma'am."
Sylvie laughed out loud. "An' between your Alabama twang and mah Texan drawl, the good folks in Virginia are gonna think they're bein' rebuilt by Dixie herself!"
Ray paused, then with just a hint of a grin, responded.
"Yes, ma'am."


[PBEM] [Turns]


RASCi

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