OPERATION: SALT THE EARTH - Log 9
Mar. 7th, 2018 09:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_changeling posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsNina, Wanda and Kevin begin their infiltration into VECTOR under their cover identities.
Once their car passed the initial gate leading into VECTOR, they were committed. Both felt the passage into the range of the suppression system like a physical blow, as their awareness was now limited to themselves and the here and now. If things went wrong, it was only their skills and their wits that could help them now.
"Ugh, I feel gross," Dom said, squirming in her seat. "They didn't mention the grossness. I demand sick pay." She was babbling to cover up her nerves; an operation like this should've been old hat but there were still too many risks, too many variables, and without her powers to help her out the uncertainty was an unwelcome companion. "Do you feel gross?"
"Do we actually have benefits in this job besides constant access to alcohol?" Wanda deadpanned, shoving the fake glasses back up on her nose as they slipped down her nose again. "Though to answer your question, gross certainly covers what I am feeling. That pizza we had earlier is not sitting well." It wasn't the pizza, though she was now starting to regret it, but she knew her own nerves would settle once they were actually doing something. They were far too vulnerable currently.
"Pre-Mission jitters. You've been through it before." Kevin said, adjusting the tie in his formal uniform. His bland brunette was a real Russian officer, abet one currently working in the far east of the country. Fortunately, the compartmentalization of the Russian forces made it easy to slip in the name to the invitation list.
"Yeah, but not without my get out of jail free card," Dom muttered in response. She could feel the base of her sleek blonde wig start to itch and resisted the urge to reach up and scratch it. Her cover wasn't a hard one to maintain - no one looked twice at anonymous aides - but the last thing she needed was an off-centre hairstyle to arouse suspicion. "Even when I didn't know I had it I had it, you know? And now I don't. It's weird."
Wanda grimaced in sympathy. Her powers mostly required activation but they were still a presence she was always aware of, regardless. But Dom's powers never turned off - that must be a shock to the system. "Well, for good or bad, we'll be plenty distracted in just a bit. That should take our minds off it."
"Here we go. Remember, visiting consultant, Russian officer attached as handler and her assistant." The car slowed and the door was opened. It was a security check but one that had been receiving VIPs for hours. Compared to the normal treatment, they were all but presenting flowers and champagne. Kevin helped Wanda out of the car, ignoring Dom as she climbed out behind them. The point man at the gate, a lieutenant at first glance, saluted crisply, which Kevin returned.
"Welcome to VECTOR. I apologize for this, but all guests must be screened before entrance. No weapons are permitted, even your service weapon, Colonel. And no electronics larger than a tablet."
"It has been a long time since I've had to give up my sidearm, Lieutenant. And in order to evaluate the data, we will need more then a smartphone."
"Laptops and computer stations will be provided, sir. But our orders are to limit outside technology and all weapons. It is standard for VECTOR. As is the screening. There is no disrespect meant."
Kevin sighed and rolled his eyes. "Very well. Relax, Lieutenant. You're not the only person who has been the convenient target for following a foolish order." He passed over his holstered weapon and followed the guards to a screening booth. A puff of air and a double swipe of the sensors inside and he was cleared through.
Wanda huffed a sigh as well, looking a little annoyed and a little bored, as she handed over a smartphone and then her briefcase. “Anya has the rest of my belongings to be scanned,” she told the guard. “I sincerely hope this process will not take long. I dislike being late, even if the delay is due to your own security measures.”
A few minutes later, and she was patting her hair back into place next to Kevin. Behind her Dom shuffled through the checkpoint, pulling out various pieces of electronics as well as more mundane-looking items, all of which got a once-over before either being returned or removed to secure storage. Dom herself was given less scrutiny, a fact which had her bristling under her neutral-looking expression. She shot Kevin a daggered look as she finally rejoined them, the still-weighty carryall slung over her shoulder.
"Please tell me this is the last step in getting in?"
"There's one last-" The officer started, only to be cut off by the bellow of a man further along in the vetting process.
"What's next? Do you need to check my balls as well! Better get a few more soldiers to help you lift in that case!" It was more of a roar than a yell, and the officer blanched. He pushed open the doors and they followed him into the queue of the security gate. A tall and heavily built General stood towering over a paralyzed staffer. His iron grey beard was a throwback to the days of the Tsar, and his voice seemed deep enough to emanate from somewhere five feet below his boots.
"General Mikhalkov, I promise you this isn't an insult-"
"Oh, do you? Do you? What are your promises worth? Who are you? Nobody. So nobody promises. That's not worth enough to bother pissing on." He turned, ready to round on the other officer and suddenly paused.
"Sasha?"
"General Mikhalkov?" Kevin broke off from the group. "Josef?"
"Son of a- I didn't know you were here. How is your father!"
"Good, good. I can tell you inside. If-"
"If-" Mikhalkov roared at the guards. "We're getting in now. Now. Unless you want to spend the next twenty years washing in the Amur! Sasha, you and I need to talk later."
"Of course." Kevin waved the others with him.
With a sniff at the guards, Wanda shoved her glasses further up her nose and followed Kevin and the large General closely. "Anya, make a note of what they stored for us, please," she said, "I'll want to make sure we leave here with all of my belongings. And my thanks to you, General Mikhalov, was it?" she continued, switching her focus to Kevin's 'friend'. "I was afraid we would be languishing forever in the doorway."
"Typical security. Been here so long their brains have frozen in place." Several other officers clustered near the General and he shook his head. "Yes, I am coming. Faugh, nonsense. I will see you."
Kevin waved as he was ushered off, while their own small party was sent down another path. "That went well."
"It pays to know assholes in high places," Dom muttered. Their surroundings were as picturesque as she had imagined they'd be - all concrete and metal grating - and their footsteps echoed as they made their way inside. "Just be careful with him - last thing we need is our cover getting blown because you forgot the name of some general's second cousin's cat."
"Trust me. I know how to handle Mikhalkov and control the conversation. He might sound like a buffoon, but Josef Mikhalkov is quietly one of the most powerful military figures in Russia. The President tried to retire his command and freeze him out a few years ago, only to be quietly informed that a military coup in response would be a when as opposed to an if. He's a nice ace in the hole."
They passed through two more check points before exiting into a lovely wide courtyard in front of a oblate shaped modern complex. Several soldiers came behind with their bags and a young woman waved for them to follow her to their accommodations.
"Welcome to VECTOR." She said brightly as they stepped inside.
Once their car passed the initial gate leading into VECTOR, they were committed. Both felt the passage into the range of the suppression system like a physical blow, as their awareness was now limited to themselves and the here and now. If things went wrong, it was only their skills and their wits that could help them now.
"Ugh, I feel gross," Dom said, squirming in her seat. "They didn't mention the grossness. I demand sick pay." She was babbling to cover up her nerves; an operation like this should've been old hat but there were still too many risks, too many variables, and without her powers to help her out the uncertainty was an unwelcome companion. "Do you feel gross?"
"Do we actually have benefits in this job besides constant access to alcohol?" Wanda deadpanned, shoving the fake glasses back up on her nose as they slipped down her nose again. "Though to answer your question, gross certainly covers what I am feeling. That pizza we had earlier is not sitting well." It wasn't the pizza, though she was now starting to regret it, but she knew her own nerves would settle once they were actually doing something. They were far too vulnerable currently.
"Pre-Mission jitters. You've been through it before." Kevin said, adjusting the tie in his formal uniform. His bland brunette was a real Russian officer, abet one currently working in the far east of the country. Fortunately, the compartmentalization of the Russian forces made it easy to slip in the name to the invitation list.
"Yeah, but not without my get out of jail free card," Dom muttered in response. She could feel the base of her sleek blonde wig start to itch and resisted the urge to reach up and scratch it. Her cover wasn't a hard one to maintain - no one looked twice at anonymous aides - but the last thing she needed was an off-centre hairstyle to arouse suspicion. "Even when I didn't know I had it I had it, you know? And now I don't. It's weird."
Wanda grimaced in sympathy. Her powers mostly required activation but they were still a presence she was always aware of, regardless. But Dom's powers never turned off - that must be a shock to the system. "Well, for good or bad, we'll be plenty distracted in just a bit. That should take our minds off it."
"Here we go. Remember, visiting consultant, Russian officer attached as handler and her assistant." The car slowed and the door was opened. It was a security check but one that had been receiving VIPs for hours. Compared to the normal treatment, they were all but presenting flowers and champagne. Kevin helped Wanda out of the car, ignoring Dom as she climbed out behind them. The point man at the gate, a lieutenant at first glance, saluted crisply, which Kevin returned.
"Welcome to VECTOR. I apologize for this, but all guests must be screened before entrance. No weapons are permitted, even your service weapon, Colonel. And no electronics larger than a tablet."
"It has been a long time since I've had to give up my sidearm, Lieutenant. And in order to evaluate the data, we will need more then a smartphone."
"Laptops and computer stations will be provided, sir. But our orders are to limit outside technology and all weapons. It is standard for VECTOR. As is the screening. There is no disrespect meant."
Kevin sighed and rolled his eyes. "Very well. Relax, Lieutenant. You're not the only person who has been the convenient target for following a foolish order." He passed over his holstered weapon and followed the guards to a screening booth. A puff of air and a double swipe of the sensors inside and he was cleared through.
Wanda huffed a sigh as well, looking a little annoyed and a little bored, as she handed over a smartphone and then her briefcase. “Anya has the rest of my belongings to be scanned,” she told the guard. “I sincerely hope this process will not take long. I dislike being late, even if the delay is due to your own security measures.”
A few minutes later, and she was patting her hair back into place next to Kevin. Behind her Dom shuffled through the checkpoint, pulling out various pieces of electronics as well as more mundane-looking items, all of which got a once-over before either being returned or removed to secure storage. Dom herself was given less scrutiny, a fact which had her bristling under her neutral-looking expression. She shot Kevin a daggered look as she finally rejoined them, the still-weighty carryall slung over her shoulder.
"Please tell me this is the last step in getting in?"
"There's one last-" The officer started, only to be cut off by the bellow of a man further along in the vetting process.
"What's next? Do you need to check my balls as well! Better get a few more soldiers to help you lift in that case!" It was more of a roar than a yell, and the officer blanched. He pushed open the doors and they followed him into the queue of the security gate. A tall and heavily built General stood towering over a paralyzed staffer. His iron grey beard was a throwback to the days of the Tsar, and his voice seemed deep enough to emanate from somewhere five feet below his boots.
"General Mikhalkov, I promise you this isn't an insult-"
"Oh, do you? Do you? What are your promises worth? Who are you? Nobody. So nobody promises. That's not worth enough to bother pissing on." He turned, ready to round on the other officer and suddenly paused.
"Sasha?"
"General Mikhalkov?" Kevin broke off from the group. "Josef?"
"Son of a- I didn't know you were here. How is your father!"
"Good, good. I can tell you inside. If-"
"If-" Mikhalkov roared at the guards. "We're getting in now. Now. Unless you want to spend the next twenty years washing in the Amur! Sasha, you and I need to talk later."
"Of course." Kevin waved the others with him.
With a sniff at the guards, Wanda shoved her glasses further up her nose and followed Kevin and the large General closely. "Anya, make a note of what they stored for us, please," she said, "I'll want to make sure we leave here with all of my belongings. And my thanks to you, General Mikhalov, was it?" she continued, switching her focus to Kevin's 'friend'. "I was afraid we would be languishing forever in the doorway."
"Typical security. Been here so long their brains have frozen in place." Several other officers clustered near the General and he shook his head. "Yes, I am coming. Faugh, nonsense. I will see you."
Kevin waved as he was ushered off, while their own small party was sent down another path. "That went well."
"It pays to know assholes in high places," Dom muttered. Their surroundings were as picturesque as she had imagined they'd be - all concrete and metal grating - and their footsteps echoed as they made their way inside. "Just be careful with him - last thing we need is our cover getting blown because you forgot the name of some general's second cousin's cat."
"Trust me. I know how to handle Mikhalkov and control the conversation. He might sound like a buffoon, but Josef Mikhalkov is quietly one of the most powerful military figures in Russia. The President tried to retire his command and freeze him out a few years ago, only to be quietly informed that a military coup in response would be a when as opposed to an if. He's a nice ace in the hole."
They passed through two more check points before exiting into a lovely wide courtyard in front of a oblate shaped modern complex. Several soldiers came behind with their bags and a young woman waved for them to follow her to their accommodations.
"Welcome to VECTOR." She said brightly as they stepped inside.
