Toasters In The Dark
Toasters In The Dark
Summary: A few Bunker folk recon the radio towers S. of Osprey.
Date: PH075 (02 July 2009)
Related Logs: Three Hour Tour logs
Players:
Dmitri..McTiernan..Levesque..Cylons..

Scorpia, Highway 606, Destroyed Bridge (S. of Osprey)
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #75
OOC Time: Thu Jul 02 21:58:44 2009


Just a few miles South of Osprey are the remains of what was once the overpass of a dry riverbed. Seasonal, the riverbed is dry most of the year and is fed by the snowmelts of the mountain ranges far to the West. There's even a dirt road that runs across it, the deep ruts evident from the highway fifty feet above. But the most remarkable thing is the level of devastation here.

The bridge appears to have been brought down by a crashed aircraft of some type. The impact point is just on the south side of the bridge in the structural supports, chunks of burned black wreckage are scattered for a hundred yards past the collapsed structure along the riverbed. Then at the base of the bridge are dozens of cars in various states of destruction, mangled metal of all colors pressed against each other. But looking South from the bridge, one understands why so few vehicles made it to points North: Hundreds - possibly thousands of cars are backed-up covering all lanes of travel. Trapped in an epic traffic jam, the Cylons found the people from the air. Huge gouges are torn out of this 'parking lot,' throwing cars everywhere. The vast majority are burned shells that litter the roadway and the edges of the surrounding forest, tossed as if they were the discarded toys of a giant.


It's late, way after sundown but that's how the Marine likes it as moving under the cover of darkness is far easier when you're trying not to be detected by machines. Or people. McT has even doned a black knit cap to hide those pale locks under. Currently herself and Dmitri are slinking along the edge of a tree line, making their way towards a tower.

The road to Osprey is always quiet these days, since most of the population is dead. Driving in these conditions in inadvisable, given the frequency of overhead raider patrols and a lack of cover for vehicles on the roads. The main bridge is out, and both ends of it are covered in traffic, burned out cars liked up row upon row. There is a dirt road across, but the tower itself rests on the South bank of the river, visible from, but not on the roadway. The structure is tall, a few hundred feet. During the day it shows against the sky like a skeletal structure reaching for the clouds. Under the cover of night, it's hard to spot, but it's been seen by Dmitri before. At the base of the tower, near one of the four support legs, stands a silent, and motionless Centurion. The only sign of it is the red light swooping right, left, right, left, slowly in the darkness. It is not easy to spot, and the moon is currently behind a cloud. About 100 yards away, just in the tree line, stands another. Also motionless save its 'eye'.

Dmitri is taciturn; wasting no time on casual conversation, he's doing exactly what he told the Captain that he was going to do. Hunting down more of those damnable Cylon towers that're blocking their communications. He's in urban camo; black and grey jacket, pants, no hat though. A hand lifts, signalling a halt as he crouches down to lower his silhouette. "There," he hisses, "Over there. One— no— two centurions guarding it."

McTiernan's forward movement stills, a hand coming out to rest lightly on the mans shoulder. A silent 'roger-got it' motion, nothing more. She turns her head, following line of sight off his arm as she points and sure enough, after a moment, she notices them as well. Frak. She takes a knee and pulls a small scrap of paper from her boot and a chewed up pencil from a pocket. Using her knee as a writing board, she quick makes a few notes before the paper goes back into the boot, deep enough it won't fall out and the pencil returns to the pocket. Pushing to her feet, she taps the man on the shoulder and then points ahead of them. 'lets move'.

The Centurions do not move, or give any sign that they have spotted the approach of the marine and survivalist. There is a long moment of silence, and those red lights sweep back and forth, back and forth, still as sculpture. As the two watch, a third Centurion passes out of the woods, roughly 30 meters from the Centurion already spotted, and crosses over toward the tower.

Dmitri's head dips in a tight nod of acknowledgement, pushing himself up just a bit; keeping low, his silhouette as close to the ground as he can make it without crawling as he starts to move— though as the third Centurion appears, he slows, eyes narrowing as he watches it for a moment. A hand's held up, for pause.

McTiernan is standing just behind the survivalist so when he suddenly stops, so does she. That icy blue gaze shifts to the treeline and begins tracking the movement of the toaster. Leaning in, she whispers right in the mans ear. "Wait, watch the patrol. Check pattern."

As that third, moving arrival approaches the tower, the one at the base of it turns its head, just as the moon shines down, the cloud blocking it finally moving off. There's a brief gap, showing the Centurion silver in the moonlight, before another cloud slides into place above. The third relieves the first by the tower, and the first turns to head in the opposite direction, away from the surveilling Colonials.

Dmitri turns his head just enough to give McTiernan a 'duh' sort of look before turning back to observing the relief—lips pursing slightly as the other walks away, he leans back to murmur in a very low pitch, "Might patrol to a second tower."

McTiernan narrows her eyes and wrinkles up her nose at the 'duh' look but she nods since that's likely the case. Opening her hand before him, she flashes five and gives up on having to explain herself since thankfully the guy isn't an idiot and then she hunkers down to wait.

The two closest to Dmitri and McTiernan stay where they are. It's a bit of a wait. The other tower is a few km down. Those at the base of the tower and in the woods remain motionless, just sweeping red eyes in the dark.

Dmitri nods, once, and then he waits. Occasionally, he checks his watch, keeping the time. He lets the mil-type decide when to move, apparently.

McTiernan makes a quick hand motion to the man with her as she watches her own watch, counting n her head. Then she nods to him, her head tipping up to indicate the direction they were headed in.

Eventually, the Centurion returns. The time elapsed is roughly long enough for the large robot to walk approximately 10km, 5km each way assuming it's the same one that left here before. It's a bit of a wait.

It's with the patience of a hunter that Dmitri waits, and times… and then the sight of the red eye flickering in the night reaches him, and he nods. A glance over to McTiernan, one brow lifting as he gestures down the patrol route in silent question.

McTiernan flashes three fingers and then tips them forward, towards the tower. 3 minutes seems to be the idea. Move 3 minutes /after/ a changing of the guard. That should give them the time they need to move as they need to move. KNowing the patrol pattern will help them a lot. She marks the time by watch as the change takes place.

The patrol seems to go by the count, as before, but in reverse. The Centurions at the base of the tower swap out, and the one relieving the other heads for the wooded area. Soon there will be just the 2, and the night wears on.

Three minutes, and Dmitri moves; aiming to skirt around the area and head down the patrol route, hoping to keep the robotic sentry's trail without getting spotted by the damnable thing.

McTiernan is hot on Dmitri's tail though not directly behind. She's at more a staggered left position but she's low and moving swiftly while still minding the placement of her feet.

Through the woods the Centurion goes, its path easy enough to follow for trained survivalists or marines. The trail is worn in through the last few days, and there is no issue with Dmitri following, three minutes out or more, even! The brush is fairly thin here, and the aspen trees provide a bit, but not much cover.

It looks as if the Cent is headed through the woods to the East. It does not seem to notice any slight noises made in its wake.

This is, after all, what Dmitri does. So he tracks the unknowing heap of high technology through the forest, keeping moving after it. Of course, this is a long damn walk, so he paces himself in order to keep from falling over. The one benefit the heap has is that it doesn't get tired.

McT trains her Marines well, building on the education they came to her with. And so it is that Lev can find them if he's tracking their trail and looking for the signs McT has left for him in the form of bent grass and the like. Currently she's following behind Dmitri as they track the obvious path the toasters have worn in the land.

Levesque is still a few hundred metres away, but in the dark of night the Lance Corporal's eyes have adjusted, and he does indeed folow along at a distance, making sure that no toaster gets too close. Now, though, he decides to pick up his pace. As quickly as he can without making an excess amount of noise, he approaches the duo.

The Centurion continues on for about 5km, through the forested area, until it comes to another radio tower, just like the last. A map or a good memory would show the towers to be following the outline of Osprey, each about 5km from the central point of the town. It looks like the structures here is pre-existing, unlike the ones that were erected out in the woods not too far from the lodge.

A slight frown purses Dmitri's lips as he crouches in view of the tower; watching it for a moment as he mentally maps out the ones they've found so far. Yeah, yeah that makes sense. "We got a pattern," he murmurs in low tones to McT, "I think we can map out the others based on it."

McT nods in agreement. Before she can say anything, however, her head snaps up and turns to their six, a hand held up for silence. She's been out here a while so her eyes are well adjusted to the darkness. She takes two easy steps backwards into the trees as she watches behind them until she spots Pete coming their way. With a nod, more for herself then D, she checks her watch, counting their time down in her head.

Levesque doesn't bother whistling, or making any verbal cues. He's seen them notice his approach and slows it down to make it even more quiet. The marine grips his weapon tightly, keeping eyes out for anything else. Once he's within five metres, he says, "Psst."

There's no sign of surprise from Dmitri as the marine slips up on them, just turning to withdraw a bit further into cover as well. Once they're all close, he lowers his head, voice low as he suggests, "Return and report?"

McTiernan shakes her head to the negative. "No. I want a better look at this other tower. I want to see how it's manned and if there is patrol on the other side of it." Stepping back out of treeline and onto the path. "So lets follow it in and then pull off the path when it's coming back out way. Let it pass us and then we can move in closer. I want to be sure." This is all given in a low tone, pitched not to carry behind the trio.

Dmitri's lips purse tightly at that. "Your call," he murmurs, though his tone's reluctant.

Levesque shakes his head, taking a knee. "Nothing to. Followed at the three to four hundred metre mark. Didn't get noticed, even though I made more noise than I aughtta have." He nods at MacTiernan.

McTiernan nods, "Then lets move out," she says softly. A hand motion is made with another nod of her head. If there is a difference in the number of thoasters at each tower it'll effect which ones they hit.

The movements at this tower seem to be almost same as the last, except the scenery is a little different. Instead of the tower being near the bed of a river, it's just on a slight incline of a hill, between wooded areas. The only difference is, there appears to be no stationary Centurion watching the guard rotate from partial cover.

Dmitri frowns; watching the tower for a moment, scanning the area and seeing nothing. He glances to McT, a brow lifting.

McTiernan watches, considers for a long moment and then nods, making a hand gesture that will take them back along the treeline in the direction that they came. Another gesture is made to indicate they should return to the bunker.

Levesque moves along at a crouched walk, his assault pack strapped securely enough to his form that it doesn't bob as he moves. He raises two fingers to point at his eyes, then the tower. After waiting and observing, the Lance Corporal turns back on his platoon commander's order.

Dmitri's chin dips in a brief, curt nod before he turns as well, moving to fade back into the trees along with the others. It's somewhat familiar terrain, and now that they're not following the cylons, they should be able to make decent time.

Meanwhile, the watchful parade of centurion patrol continues silently in the woods, with one centurion always on the move between towers. It seems the toasters haven't noticed the Colonials tonight, which is a pretty big break for them, considering how humanity has fared this week.

Levesque has little problem leading the group back to the bunker - at least with orientation. He makes a few dog legs and strange manoeuvers, halting in some places for sometimes ten minutes at a pop, and listening. All in all, though, he's still tense. He does manage to say, "I came here on vacation, once. Family drove out to Osprey."

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