Phalanx: Not That Kind Of Halo

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

The X-Men arrive in Greece and Scott, Sam, and Kurt have an initial briefing with Admiral Milios. It turns out the approach to Youra will be even more complicated than it was the first time.


The Blackbird looked almost tiny inside the large hangar meant for cargo jets, but the scattered flight crewmen from the Greek military still cast envious and adoring glances in its direction as they scurried around on other business. Admiral Milios had assured Scott that he would have as much support from his ground crew as was needed, which was something of a relief this far from home.

"Gentlemen," the Admiral began, his thick accent nearly obscuring the word despite his fluency with the English language, "our government expresses all appropriate gratitude for your assistance here. I trust your Agent Cooper has briefed you on Phalanx?" At the answering nods, Milios unrolled a map onto the folding table that served as an impromptu briefing room in a corner of the hangar.

"Youra is, hm, how you say - not a piece of cakewalk to approach. Naval approach, is no good, too much visibility. My advisors, they suggest SCUBA insertion, but that did not work so very well for our initial assault team. You have teleporter in your group, yes?"

"Yes, but neither of them can teleport more than one person without exhausting themselves," Scott said, the memory of Kurt's accident all too fresh in his mind. He wasn't about to overextend Clarice, either. This was somewhat more of a trial by fire than he was comfortable with, for a trainee, but her powers were simply too useful in a situation like this. And they all have to see combat at some point, I suppose. "Our fliers won't be of much help, either. All but one are too visible when they use their powers."

Milios frowned, his square jaw accentuating the expression. "Insertion by sea is not a good option, no. Cliffs here and here, too difficult to climb quickly. Beach here, no good either, too open. Insertion here, then," he poked one thick finger at a spot on the northern end of the island. "Nighttime drop, no spotlights on island mean you are good as invisible."

The Admiral paused for a moment, looking over the three X-Men. "Eh, your people, they have experience with high-altitude parachute drop, yes?" He made the question almost rhetorical, having been briefed that the X-Men were not an American military unit, but rather highly-trained civilians.

"Some training, at least", Kurt answered honestly. "Some of us have more experience with it than others."

"The admiral said high-altitude, Kurt - that's something different than our emergency procedures for the 'Bird," Nathan said quietly, looking up from the map. He glanced at Milios, and then Scott. "If we're talking about a HALO jump, I've had a lot of experience. I don't know that anyone else on the team has. Kane, maybe, in the course of his training up north, but you'd have to ask him." #And I wouldn't be surprised if Logan has, but whether or not he remembers is another matter entirely.#

"He's right," Scott said to the admiral. "We've got some basic experience with parachuting, but if you want us doing a high-altitude jump my team is going to have to be taught how to do it."

"Hmm, yes," Milios mused, tapping the table absently. "There is time. I will assign my two best instructors to them, Papaki and Vilni. Very well-trained, could teach monkey if he would sit still. Will bring them in now." He turned, shouting quick orders in Greek to an aide, who saluted and sprinted off out of the hangar. "I am trusting in your team, Mister Cyclops. My government does not wish to utilize a military reaction, I do not either. But should we not hear from you in two hours from your insertion, we have no other choice. You understand, yes?"

Scott nodded. "Fully," he said. It went without saying that if any of the X-Men were... co-opted, that the problem facing the Greeks would multiply exponentially. They couldn't afford to risk it. He caught the sudden tension in Nathan's posture and gave the older man a warning look that kept him silent. "We need to take a closer look at the map. It's been a while since we were here the first time."

Kurt swallowed slightly, aware of the implications and what was not being said. He nodded. "At the map, and at the blueprints of the building. And yes, we understand."

"Good," Admiral Milios pronounced. "As your Marines like to say, failure is not an option, yes? Our facilities are yours, and I will have our instructors begin the necessary training. At two hours before dawn, we attack."

--


The X-Men get a crash course in HALO jumping.


"Vilni! Tell jumpers here what are three rules of the air?" The whip-lean parachuting instructor paced around the assembled X-Men, raising his voice over the sound of the Mediterranean waves in the background. His larger, almost rotund, partner laughed and came to parade rest before the group, raising his chin and barking out rapid-fire phrases in Greek before translating.

"Rule one is keep body position correct, yes? Flat like paper, fall slow. Skinny like javelin, eh, fall like missile and go boom. Rule two, look sides, not down. Ground will be there if you looking or no. Other jumpers, they not so certain, yes? Moving very fast, colliding other jumpers very bad. Rule three! Watch altimeter! If pass six hundred and no parachute? Pull red cord!" Sergeant Vilni mimed yanking on the crimson shoulder loop on his HALO harness. "If pull red cord and no parachute? Pull emergency green cord." He indicated the toggle for the reserve parachute on his side. "If pull both and no parachute, tuck arms and head for making smaller hole when landing, other jumpers not fall in and break ankle." He smiled as if making the most hilarious joke ever. "Listen Sergeant Papaki, over one hundred jump, no problems! Sergeant Vilni," he thumped his own chest, "sixty-three jump, no problem. You people? One jump, no problem!"

Sam supposed that he'd have been more worried about parachute failure and the two Greek sergeants' morbid humor if he didn't have his own failsafe in his mutant power. The need for the element of surprise or no, he didn't plan on simply tucking and "making smaller hole when landing" if both of his parachutes failed. That was what his blast field was for. Still, it paid to be attentive so that hopefully he wouldn't have to fall back on that last resort.

"I think that joke gets issued with the chute the second you become a training instructor." Garrison muttered, wondering how he could travel across the world only to end up back on the Danforth, apparently. He listened with half an ear, just double-checking his own memories and relearning techniques. It has been a couple of years since he'd qualified out of the CNDF jump school, and like his old sergeant had said (and likely this pair would soon enough), you only have to screw it up once to make it count.

Rogue had been watching in amusement as her fellow X-Men had stumbled around with the HALO equipment, practicing falls and then getting up from them. She came with her own built in equipment that made the parachuting unnecessary for her, but Marie had still wanted to attend the training and see what her teammates would be going through. That way she would be better able to know when to intervene if something went wrong. "Comfy?" she teased Logan as she adjusted one of the straps of his gear.

Logan let her adjust his gear with a tolerant look. "Feels familiar." he muttered. He itched for a smoke, but he didn't have any on him. Instead, he triple-checked his gear - pack, altimeter, all of it. He was halfway to ripping out the chutes, refolding them, and repacking them when Sgt Vilni stopped him.

"You there, with the funny hair, Mister Logan," the large sergeant barked, stepping over to Logan and looking him in the eye. "Not to be getting ahead of Sergeant Papaki's instruction, yes? Most likely you not even are knowing what all equipment is for. More likely twist parachute up like cigarette, make big splash when hit ground, make pretty girl here cry. Is to be having the hands off now--" He paused as he noticed one of the adjustments Logan had made to his harness, then walked behind the stocky X-Man, checking straps and attachments. "Aha!" he proclaimed after a cursory inspection. "Mister Logan is no beginner, we see! Already set for fast chute deployment. Very professional, also very risky. How many jumps have you, Mister Logan?"

"I don't know." he admitted quietly. "More than one." He paused for a moment to try to remember, but all he got was a flash of green light and the howl of cold wind. "Used to have an ice cream cone." he said, having no real idea what the words meant, but just that it was relevant somehow.

Vilni's eyebrows raised, and he looked to Papaki, chattering quickly in Greek before nodding to Logan. "Well then, Mister Logan who is veteran paratrooper, please to be following along. Experience good, but things change a bit since your time."

Papaki stepped forward, raising the small mask hanging around his neck and displaying the hoses attached to the canister on his hip. "Jumping from thirty-five thousand feet! Is over seven miles above sea level. Air very thin, very cold. Breathing from oxygen tank, keep from passing out. Is normally to be wearing special jump uniform, but... eh, Strategos Milios, he is saying your special uniforms even better." Papaki scoffed lightly as he poked Clarice in the side, feeling the synthetic leather of the X-Men's uniform. "Is not seeming so special, but eh, am only simple soldier, yes?"

Ew, the smelly Greek drill sergeant poked her. "It works," she agreed, pleased that this mission allowed her to actually wear her uniform, even if lugging around 40 extra pounds of parachute made her walk kind of oddly. She wouldn't have missed HALO training for anything, jumping out of planes was something she had never expected to do other than maybe for fun and she was excited. She was having problems smiling too much.

Walking around with forty pounds of parachute harness on his back wasn't really an issue for Sam, who was used to heavy lifting on the farm and during the time he'd spent working in the coal mines. Besides, his back was a little more flexible than most due to the way he directed his blast field with his body. Still, there seemed to be a definite downside to wearing the harness. Leaning over to Garrison, he cupped his hand over his mouth and whispered "Uh, Garrison? Are ya gettin' a little...uh...pinched? Ya know, down where th' boys are?"

Jim wedged a hand beneath one strap to make a minute adjustment to the weight distribution, face carefully set to an expression of neutral concentration. It was one thing to be uneasy with the prospect of getting shot at while holding nothing but a plastic sword, but being nervous about the drop was just ridiculous. They were trying to avoid a roaring blast field or giant flaming bird, but even without Marie's presence no one on the team was that committed to the element of surprise. The safety net of mutant powers reduced the actual risk involved in this maneuver to precisely zero, which was probably a hell of a lot more guarantee than the men instructing them had ever had. Now, if only he could kill the general sense of being completely out of his league for this mission.

It would have been nice if the harness issue hadn't been pulled to the forefront of his brain, either. Thanks, Sam.

"Everybody excited?" Marie asked her teammates with a cheerful smile. "This should be a blast." As she smiled, Marie thought about the fact that growing up, she'd never imagined she'd want to jump out of a perfectly good airplane or half the other things she'd done since arriving at the mansion.

"Can it, kid." Logan said, but with a half-smile on his face. Truth be told he was in an odd headspace - familiar and heady, like he'd done this a thousand times before. He just chalked it up to another vagary of his muddled memory and watched Garrison try to adjust his harness straps with great amusement. "Got a problem, Gar?"

"Many. Among them dropping into a live fire zone with the school guidance counselor as backup. I preferred my original plan, which was to drop you in, wait until they had run out of bullets shooting you, and then arrest the whole lot of them between gyro platters." Kane sighed. "If I die, tell my sister I'm bloody annoyed about it."

"The school guidance counselor would be a lot more help if he could be the one doing the shooting, but I guess that probably wouldn't do a lot for minimizing casualties." Jim finally wrenched his hands away from the straps and glanced at Marie. "Um, just as a warning any spastic flailing that might happen won't necessarily mean I need help. If I do I'll call you. A lot."

"Aha!" Sergeant Vilni exclaimed, patting Haller on one tall shoulder. "Yes, we have been educated about the young pretty girl who flies! You," he pointed at Marie with a broad grin, "you not worry about parachute, yes? You are air safety. If tall clumsy one," he jerked a thumb at Haller, "or tiny purple one," he indicated Clarice "have problem, you catch, no problem!"

Marie grinned back at the sergeant. "Ah'm the last resort 'chute. When all else fails, scream 'Rogue!'" She quickly directed a mock-glare over at Garrison. "And if you try and turn that into something dirty, you'll be spending the next week trying to pull my boot outta your ass."

"I knew you liked it kinky." Kane shrugged. "If you need her to rescue you, call her 'Mistress'. She likes that."

Logan choked back a laugh at that, and adjusted his gear one final time. "Mistress." he said, not quite under his breath. "Hah!"

"Hey now!" Clarice protested, she was not going to have a problem with the parachute. "If I have a problem I can port myself away. And....hit something else at terminal velocity," she trailed off realizing that falling into a disk didn't really help her in this situation. "Right. Mistress it is! You bring the whips and I'll bring the chains!"

Sam snickered at the exchange, watching everyone banter back and forth while still taking the two Hellenic sergeants' instruction seriously. It made him proud to be part of such a group, and gave him faith that they'd all come safely home from the mission.

It was a little unnerving that out of all the people present only Garrison seemed to approach Jim's level of trepidation (or, as part of him was calling it, "remotely in touch with reality"). He had a suspicion that might be because they were the only two here who'd never seen this type of combat before. So naturally we should be a team. Jim pinched the bridge of his nose, disgusted. Okay, look. You're an adult and trained, you've been on missions, and Clarice isn't worried. Just breathe, stay out of the way, and suck it up.

Papaki stepped in front of the group, slapping both hands to his hips and then turning to point with both index fingers to the C-130 that was taxiing out of one of the large hangars. "Classroom training over now!" he barked, "Now is real thing. We make jump from twelve thousand feet, for practice! Everyone do good, we have no more training. Have accident, we say nice things about you and come back for more training! On to plane, X-Men!"