ROBCO EVENT LOG V2.66
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Rexus It is almost evening in Albuquerque New Mexico. Of course, the basement safehouse Rexus has secured as a tiny base of operations is non-descript... the building ontop has been rubble for quite some time. Inside, well there are some candles for light, a few chairs, a table, some boxes of canned beans for sustenance. Rexus of course, stands over the table where there is a rough map of the city sketched on a bit of paper. "No power armor.. no uniforms... do this right we'll just blend in nicely with the population and won't raise any eyebrows. We're lookin for evidence of nukes or chemical weapons so... any large supply trucks, MSR's, warehouses under heavy guard.... if we can't spot the big items we can at least look for evidence that they're around here somewhere."
Elsie A techie survaillence job against Solomon, looking for nukes or chem weapons? This has Surelda written all over it. In, you know, a descrete way. Perhaps that's why since her arrival, the radio girl hasn't taken off her hood or cloak. She's also sticking close to Stockton, at least now. Once things start going, it'll be hard one way or the other to say where she'll end up.

So, she raises a hand. Clearly this is her first military briefing. "Excuse me, sir. But what should we do if there's trouble?" An alarm, for example. Or if someone gets caught. Or recognized. You know, anyone.
Stockton Stockton left the duster and badge at home. He's got the full stealth gear on today, with rags over top to conceal the tech bits that make him stand out in a crowd. He's not here to lead, just to follow and getting his own information as much as he can. Course Surelda's comment brings his attention onto her and he shakes his head some, she won't have to scream, but she can if she wants! But the big Marshal in disguise will make sure she's alright. Looking back at Rexus he just nods, he understands.
Ironface Jones Looking down at the map of the city, Ironface does his best to memorize it's layout as he listens to Rexus talk. The big tribal nods his head slightly several times, "I think we will be able to blend in." Ironface has ditched his usual sequined white cape in favor of a plain dark blue cloth cloak to wear over his high tech stealth armor, the better to help him hide. "We will be very sneaky." Looking at the others in the little basement he gives them each a nod of greeting and recognition. Except for Shane, she gets a little smile.
Rexus Rexus points at a few spots on the map. "I've done a little walk around.... there are some residential areas that are fairly clear of baddies.. Solomon won't put his nukes or weapons around them if he wants to conceal them.... too many prying eyes... but there is a warehouse district and some other areas that're fenced in.. figure if we get some eyes on the gates we can monitor any traffic coming in and out... but yeah, probably looking for big trucks or a heavy armed escort of any sort... pre-war military stuff especially. If we can listen in on their radios that'll make things a lot easier... so I suppose that will be Miss Radio's job... rest of us will just get out on foot and look around.... if you get into trouble well... call for help... I'll remain here with any others that want to act as our QRF."
Nemo Having arrived at the safehouse by motorcycle, Nemo hauls ass to meet up with the others. Wearing a dusty, mexican poncho, a stained cowboy hat, and these defunct jeans with the zipper on the ass, Dr. Booker would blend in just fine in most setting in New Mexico. Just a bit late, they enter the safehouse.

Giving a quick nod to everyone gathered, Nemo stepped up to Rexus, declaring, "I'm Dr. Booker, representing the Scientists of El Dorado. I caught a little bit of the plan." He gestures to the table, "We've got our map, our weapons." He pulls out a thin blisterpack of mentats, popping one into his mouth. "I've got a pip-boy, with a radio, for backup communication. Remind what a QRF is again."
Shane Staked outside, Trouble is left to fend for herself out beyond the safehouse somewhere with First Horse no doubt. Settling in a couple moments late, she explains in an aside, "I left some of my arsenal on Trouble. Less noise that way." She tips a salute to Nemo on his arrival, offering up a "Boss," before her eyes stray backto studying the layout of things.
Ironface Jones "Greetings, science friends," Ironface Jones says to the newcomers. "QRF means quick reaction force." Because of all the strange shit to know he knows that that means. "Do you think I should stay and be QRF or should I sneak around and find things? I am very good at tracking so I think maybe I should help follow any patrols to locate where the things are being kept." Glancing over towards Shane Ironface nods, "I understand. I did not bring my gun called SAW. That makes noise just to carry because of the bullet string that hangs out the side."
Jackson Captain Rexus's plan seemed reasonable. Decked out from head to toe in his stealth armor, the deputy felt as though it was readily apparent that he was definitely one who felt well suited to a stealthy insertion. From the looks of the map, everything seemed rather clean-cut and simple. The man, in his experience, had already thought of a contingency in the event that their cover was blown, and Jackson noted to himself that the QRF would be greatly, greatly appreciated if everything decided to go to hell on them. At the sight of Ironface, he smiled behind his concealed visage, especially at the science friends remark. But for the time being, Jackson chose to remain silent, only speaking up enough to sound his affirmative in reaction to the proposed plan. Everything sounded as under control as it could possibly be. At least, it did for now. "No objection on my part, boss. If stealth's the game, I'm definitely ready for the occasion."
Elsie Doctor Motherfuckin' Booker. Surelda tenses the moment the man introduces himself, but thankfully in the name of identity obfuscation, she already has her hood pulled up. So it's likely that unless Nemo recognized her cloak or her shape, he doesn't know she's there yet. Wide, black eyes turn and stare directly at Stockton. Just to see what it is he's planning on doing.

A few breaths pass, some ringing in her eyes, and Surelda turns back forward to Rexus. "Radio," she responds, very quietly. Pay no attention to her! Put Baby in that damn corner! "Yes, sir. I'll tap the radio."
Stockton Stockton listens and when the man known as Booker shows up, the man behind the stealth mask just clicks his tongue slightly, the sound coming through the vox system. When Sully gives him that look he just rests a hand reassuringly on her shoulder. When she volunteers to tap the radio, he nods soundly and then looks at Rexus, "I'll check out the warehouses, anyone else wanna follow they're free to," he announces before simply heading that direction. It'll be easier to just start doing his thing.
Rexus Rexus gives a nod to Ironface, "Yeah, if you can find a patrol... follow it.. if anything we'll see if they set patterns on their routes and times... if we need to hit them we can infiltrate them between their patrols later." he says. "Make sure you all are takin notes... we'll regroup here after everyone's finished their tasks.. compile the info and get ready for whatever the next step is."
James Crshunk! A loud noise emits as a tubby cover-all clad, mulleted man tries to tear his way into a can of the beans. "Aha!" he says as he produces a small can opener from his tool kit. Glancing around the room at everyone else as if confused, he then looks to the map. Pointing at a seemingly random spot, "Yup, uh huh. Looks like ya'll got this one." Sheeek. Another section of can peels away and then as he white knuckles it, another. Finally with one final 'creeenk' it opens, As James dirties his hand and face with bean sauce he turns to Nemo. "You got a link for that der radio? I don't see a situation in the whole damn wasteland results in my ass not makin a racket scuttlin about." He pauses as if think for a moment before producing a deception holodisk. "I did find wunna deese," he says holding up the disk.
Elsie Surelda remains paused over the map a little longer. Stockton goes ... and Nemo follows. She exhales slightly in relief. It also allows her to focus. So she turns her head slightly, studying the map, memorizing the route. She even goes so far as to turn her body this way and that in preparation for left turns and right. Then she looks up at Rexus and just ... looks at him for a few moments. Kinda stares. Working up the courage maybe. Finally? "Okay." She adjusts the bag of supplies on her back and nods once more. "Radio tap." And with that she turns and heads in a different direction.
Nemo When the party starts, Dr. Booker follows. Either he's purposefully ignoring Surelda, doesn't recognize her, or there's something else going on in that head of his. The man in the stealth mask takes off, and Nemo moves to follow, speaking softly, "I'll help you on that." He slings his repeater over his shoulder, and follows along.
Shane Glancing between those gathered, Shane has few illusions she is anything but as blunt as the bat that's become somewhat synonymous with occasional word of an encounter somewhere in the sands. She gestures between she and Ironface, and says, "If you would be of use elsewhere, that makes sense, too. But I got no illusions the bodysuit's turned me ninja, best if I hang back unless things get hairy and reinforcements are needed. She looks from Ironface, to Nemo, to Rexus, "Anyone have a favored signal for that?" She blinks as she looks at the can opener before looking off after Surelda with interest after the last two words spoken.
Ironface Jones "I shall be very sneaky," Ironface declares as he starts to head off. Turning back before he goes he looks to Shane and says, "I will trust you to have my back if I get into trouble. If anyone else gets into trouble I will attempt to meet the QRF and protect them." Setting off, he looks at the streets of Albuquerque again, ready to find some bad guys to stalk. And hopefully not have to kill this time.
Jackson Everybody seemed to be finding their purpose in this rapidly-- there was no time to waste, after all. Jack was no different. After a quick and thorough investigation of the map's contents, he marked a few choice locations in his mind's eye for reference purposes, then looked over toward Shane as she asked for confirmation on their distress signal. The deputy shifted his shoulders uncomfortably under the bulk of his armor for an instant, then let out a raspy chuckle through his mask's synthesizers before responding. "Bullets and blood, most likely. Fingers crossed that we don't have to deal with any of it. If it comes down to it, I'll rig up something noisy to throw them off our trail and let ya'll know what's going on. Two birds with one stone, and all that nonsense."
With that said, Jackson turned on his heels, turned his head back toward the group in an attempt to gauge them for any last orders or queries, then, after realizing he was no longer required, he slipped back into the street and into the evening air. If he had anything to say about it, he didn't feel much up to tracking these buildings down himself. He'd rather have the Enclave lead them right to where he was looking for. Whether it was their men, or one of their idiot delivery jockies, it didn't matter to him. He'd find his way toward one of their facilities one way or another.
Shane "Three short, sharp whistles, unless you can pull a convincing bird call and have one in mind?" Shane offers in suggestion, smiling and giving Ironface a deep nod of her head, "Same and I will be here." It is spoken so matter of fact that its easy to miss the promise. She unslings a sword, pausing to clean a fleck or three of blood from it as she listens quietly. And then he's off.
Elsie Tap the radio. Surelda has the equipment for it; she wouldn't have come out here without it. She's practiced with it, and even had some of the old radio guys around LoneStar show her what was what. It's a baby groot situation; set it to this, attach this, and push this button, but do not push that button ever.

She memorized the route, mostly by turning this way and that for each turn on the map she'd have to make. She walks through the streets looking much like any other drifter or traveler who might come through. A trader perhaps, or a farmer's daughter down on their luck, out looking to make some money in the big city. A thousand different explanations for a thousand people she could be.

To the radio tower. Drawing up to it, no doubt it'll be dark in the surrounding area. Who wastes power lighting the space around a radio tower, after all? And the key, even Surelda knows, is to look like you know what you're doing. So with only the barest of hesitation, she moves around the tower to the access ladder leading up. Up, up, up we go.

It's nicer up here, once you get there. Less chance of being recognized, though with her hood up and the bulk of her armor, there's small chance of that even down below. Up, up, up, until she gets to the main control panel of the radio tower itself.

There, she slides her rear onto the platform and opens the panel. The first item comes out of her backpack; a small flashlight. She holds that in her mouth to manuver her way through.

Surelda pauses here, taking a few deep, frightened breaths. But she's got to work through it, and work through it she will. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Okay. She talks her way through this.

"Find the triplet cables," she instructs herself, and her slender fingers reach out to do just that. One, two, three cables, all roughly the same size and shape bundled together. She pinches them. "Expose the copper of the second and third," she mutters, and ehr fingers release the first cable. With a knife, she makes a cut into the plastic of each, exposing the copper.

"Twist ties," she tells herself again, and out comes a small dedicated radio, with its own cables already stripped. She twists the copper of those together with the copper newly exposed on the tower.

"Make sure it sticks." Glue applied to the back of the dedicated radio transmitter allows the thing to get stuck inside the metal box that is the panel.

"Test it, you idiot." She says that like she said all the other words, and she pulls out her own LoneStar radio, moving it to a frequency that should match the dedicated transmitter. She lifts it to her ear, listening through the static. This close, however, there's not much but feedback whether she succeeded or not. She turns it off and tucks it away. Then? She just sits there, staring at what she's done for a moment. Her big, black eyes travel, turning away to look over the horizon, over the city below, around at the warehouses and residential homes, taking note of which areas have power and which do not. But oh, it is high up here. Very, very high.

In a flash, her pensiveness is over and her hands shoot up to close the panel. "Go home and get fucked up for three days." The last instruction. That part, she can do.

She makes her way down, and back to the rendezvous point.
Nemo Wherever Stockton goes, Nemo might follow. Or he might not. Dr. Booker has his mind set on something, and when he remembers that nuclear radiation has a tangible effect on his radio's speaker, he's pulling out a small notebook and an old Red Rocket pen. Keeping as stealthy as he can be, Dr. Booker circles the larger warehouses, recording spikes in certain octaves, static changes, and other phenomenon. He mumbles to himself, trying to remember all he could about radioactive isotopes. Numbers fill the page.

Soon, he's tracing roads, and following different paths, marking what sign went were, and predicting travel routes. He'd still have to calculate all the numbers to weed out false positives and confirmation bias in the moment, but still, he was in his zone. After pouring through books on chemical weapons and nuclear radiation, he felt more confident striking off on his own. He may have lost Stockton, or Stockton might still be following.

When he's done, he's left with a notebook full of numbers and partial maps. Finally, he's almost ready to return to the others. On a fork between the path back, and another path, he spots a local bar. He looks over his shoulder, then mumbles, "Maybe I can ditch the Sheriff for a while longer, get a drink." And off he goes, no doubt to brag about owning a motorcycle to some poor girl, then offering a handful of free chems, just to sit and chat.
Ironface Jones Looking for bad guys is hard work. Ironface initially tries to just find them through the use of his powers of deduction, which more or less fail him as he ends up standing outside of a family's home. A frown appears on his face and he changes his modus operandi, instead looking for vehicle tracks to follow. And find them he does. The master hunter walks along after them, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

The tracks lead him toward some buildings and Ironface takes note of them, literally pulling a scrap of leather and a piece of charcoal and writing down where he is so that he'll be able to find it again. Then he sets off, trying to follow another set of tracks that leads away to see where they might be headed. As he strolls along he keeps the hood of his cloak up and watches carefully for anything out of the ordinary or that might mean trouble.