(no subject)

[boston_bruiser]

[Out of Milliways:

First, there is a briefing.

Then, Voodoo keeps a promise.

Then, they wait.

Then everything goes to shit. Warning for the usual language, violence against your fellow man, and gunplay.]

There are times when Voodoo is in a lighthearted mood when he comes here, nevermind his vocation and all the shit that’s going on – that has gone on – in his life. There are times where he’s happy and carefree here, eager for a run around the lake or maybe a session of target practice out back. There are times where he feels mischievous here, searching the Bar for some poor schmuck to mess with.

This is not any of those times.

This is the exact polar opposite of those times.

If you’re looking for him, you can’t miss him. He’s standing in the middle of the Bar, decked out in combat gear and a look of total concentration on his face. He’s taken up three tables with diagrams, satellite photos, weather forecasts, intelligence reports, and topographic maps that look like they all relate to one very specific grid square in Helmand province, along with reports on various pieces of Soviet Bloc gear and weaponry. His attention right now is on one topographic map in particular, where he’s circled a medium-sized area at the bottom of a valley and is in the process of sketching out what looks to be plans of attack on it in grease pencil.

Botherable.

But don’t even think about touching anything. It will end very, very badly.

[Tinytag: Cato]

Comments

[gottadealwithit]

Naga needed to go outside, so Korra took her out to find her somewhere to hang out, and is returning now to finish the cake. Or at least to give up on the cake and find something savory.

But she's distracted by Voodoo, who is taking up a lot of space in the middle of the bar, and has a very serious and in her experience un-Voodoo-like expression on his face.

"Everything okay?"

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo looks up at Korra, then back down to the maps, resuming his grease pencil planning.

"No."

It is simple, monosyllabic, clear. He's sketched out a bunch of symbols in red on the mountains surrounding the valley that will doubtlessly be foreign to Korra, though for now he's sticking with company-level infantry and below.

"Op went bad."

(That's putting it mildly.)

[gottadealwithit]

Korra looks down at the maps, chewing her lip with worry. She can't read the writing, but she can at least recognize maps and mapmaking.

She takes a moment before she asks, mulling over the question for suitability.

But she can't really hide from this sort of thing if she's going to be a good Avatar, can she?

"How bad?"

[boston_bruiser]

...well, it's best to keep stuff like this simple, isn't it.

"Two helicopters wandered into our area of operations while we were on-mission and got shot down. They crashed here," he says, tapping the circle.

"Those helicopters were carrying a total of 80 Royal Marines. And these," he says, gesturing to the symbols drawn onto the nearby mountains, "are people that want to kill or capture them."

[gottadealwithit]

"...are Royal Marines on your side?"

Korra doesn't know, but she can assume from context that the people who want to kill or capture them are the bad guys.

"What are you going to do?"

[boston_bruiser]

"Mhm."

Voodoo keeps up his grease penciling.

"I'm assuming," he says, brushing a breadcrumb off the side of the map, "that they're all dead or combat ineffective. So me and another guy're gonna ride out there, set up a perimeter, and hold it until reinforcements come."

He stops his sketching. Looks at the crash site. The valley. Then at the mountains.


"I really hate these fucking odds."

[gottadealwithit]

"Wait," says Korra. "Just two of you, protecting all these people from all these people?"

Without bending?

[boston_bruiser]

He bites his lip.



"That's the plan."

They might have close air support, they might not. He doesn't know.

[gottadealwithit]

He's not the only person biting their lip. Korra is too, looking not at him, but at the map, as if that will magically give her combat experience and tactical knowledge to fix this.

It doesn't come.

"Where are you going to set this perimeter up?" she asks. The how will maybe come later.

[brutalcareer]

"You sure the valley is the way to go? It's the perfect setup for being the target of an ambush... Unless it's you doing the ambushing."

Cato looks at Voodoo and then back at the maps.

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo glances at Cato, filing away the scars for inquiry at a later date, then back to the map.

"No," he says, "I ain't sure. Depends on whether or not there's anyone alive at the crash site."

[brutalcareer]

"Is the goal to find the survivors or are they the enemy?"

He's not an expert but he sounds like he's at least been around the block.

[boston_bruiser]

"Goal's to protect the survivors," he says, then gestures to a bunch of symbols he's drawn all over the mountains to the north. "These are the enemy."

[brutalcareer]

Cato narrows his eyes,

"Figures..."

He moves back and forth between the charts,

"At least you have a better idea of the weather than I did when I needed to figure out what to do."

[boston_bruiser]

"Modern fuckin' technology," Voodoo says, grease penciling in some more symbols. "Never underestimate it."

[brutalcareer]

"For me it was modern technology working against me. There were people controlling what happened based on activity or inactivity in the arena..."

Cato was rambling, he's still studying the charts.

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo looks up. "You goin' anywhere with this, or are you just lookin' to waste my time?"

[raptorcanaria]

Dinah was just doing her rounds of refreshing floral centerpieces on the tables, when she discovers three of them moved together and what is very obviously military tactical planning spread out over them.

She stops not too near the tables and tilts her head, studying the layout thoughtfully. In her hands, she's still holding three vases of flowers, grouped together in the formation known the world over as 'three drinks from the bar.'

[boston_bruiser]

It takes Voodoo a while to notice Dinah's presence.

But once does, he tucks the grease pencil in his vest, looks at her, and waits.


(Well, obviously she's standing there for a reason, right?)

[raptorcanaria]

(OK, if this were her world? Then flyers would have to come in from there - someone with good mass defensive capabilities like GL or Diana to the crash site. GA would start there if he were available and obviously move in close because he's an idiot. She and Ray would have to start in close range, but if she's lucky, she could block that< route with a well placed scream and...)

She's being incredibly rude, isn't she?

She looks up and smiles sheepishly, and holds up the vases in a hand by way of explanation.

"Sorry. I'll put these back until you're done."

[boston_bruiser]

"You do that," he says, returning his attention to the map.

(It's not like he's got much room to talk right now in terms of etiquette.)

[raptorcanaria]

She spins around agilely on her feet and deposits the offending items on the bar, where they stay.

And in return, she grabs herself a glass of water, and checking over her shoulder that intense-looking-marine doesn't have one, gets one for him too.

"Here," she offers. "Dehydration never helped anyone think."

[boston_bruiser]

"...thanks," he says, accepting the drink.


Eventually he even takes a sip.



"People call me Voodoo."

[raptorcanaria]

"Nice to meet you," she says, "I'm Dinah."

Glancing back at the map, "do you mind if I ask? Or will it break your concentration more than I already have?"

[boston_bruiser]

He shrugs. "Sure. Ask away."