Hazmat: The Delta Contagion, Role Play

Chris stifles a groan as the situation seems to spiral out of control. He runs through any number of options, but all seem to end badly.

Let's see how much the Lady likes me today, the marine thinks with a bad feeling in his gut. His grip on his medpack slackens as he lets it drop, giving him both arms to use. With Alea's odd angle to him, he reaches out, fingers closing around the syringe and pulling it out of the girl's grip, his right hand gripping her own around her knife and pushing it back into the cover. Readjusting the needle in his grip, Chris grimaces as he sticks it into Alea's neck, pushing the plunger of the syringe to inject the girl with whatever was inside it. With the Lieutenant's arm at her elbow, it gave him the leverage to pull that arm around behind her, where he locked both arms up and held her.

"For the record, LT," Chris growled as he struggled with Alea, "coming up behind crazies is a bad thing."

At the feeling of the struggle beginning to become more harsh, she pulls at her limbs and tries to break free. Fear runs through her veins as she does not know what to expect, the voices screaming into her ears.

Kill her!

The thought ran harsh through her, she gasps as she feels the needle pierce her flesh. As the fluid runs into her, the movements in Alea's body become less feral and she seems to slowly calm in her movements at least. A few seconds pass between this before her body becomes calmed under their grip. Her eyes seem to shrink a little while her pupils grow, centering themselves at a more reasonable size remaining in direct relation with her sanity. No words are spoken from her, but she seems to have calmed down a considerable amount.

Rek was glad the medic had been as fast as he was, and helped to restrain her as the fluid went to work within Alea's body. Upon reflection, he would have probably twisted her arm, and given her a face full of concrete before he'd injected her, so he was glad the doc had acted. He half grimaced, and nodded. "Thanks, doc."

After having calmed down, Alea took a step forward. Her arms pulled free of the grip, slipping out from them. Her free and closest hand had risen to her neck and grasped the needle, pulling it out harshly and dropping it to the ground before turning back around and facing the lieutenant. Now, rather then having the insane look in her eyes she had a strong feeling of emptiness in them. She stared at the lieutenant for a moment with her hands calmly at her sides.

"Where am I needed, sir?" She questions him with a sense of ease. The medication is still setting in, though it has easily nullified the voices in her head. Instead of the constant sounds of paranoia, she now hears nothing. Her mind is empty of all thoughts-- including her own. She simply stares off as an obedient puppet, waiting for the master to pull her strings and tell her how to act.

Rek stepped back, satisfied the medication was working. He would have to speak to Chris shortly, and see what the medic thought, but until then he needed to figure out why command had assigned her, why they'd even release someone who could kill them all. Heck he still had no idea why any of them were there in the fashion they were.

His blue eyes took Alea in, and then he settled his gaze on her own, and he held it for several seconds. "I want you on point, then after the room has been cleared," he began after a moment, his voice low, "I want you to stay close to me." Rek knew what he just said sounded like an innuendo, but he felt it was the safest option to protect the rest of the team. He knew Chris was fully capable of keeping an eye on her, but the medics duty was to everyone. Besides, how much of that medication did she have with her besides that one? Never mind. If she is here, there must be a reason, he told himself.

The lieutenant then unclipped the holster and removed the pistol embedded within, and handed it to her. "I'm trusting you to keep us and yourself alive."

Alea's left hand rises and she takes hold of the G17 as her eyes rise up and she stares a moment with curiosity toward the Lieutenant. An odd thing to do, putting a gun into the hands of a woman with so little sanity. These thoughts were not on her mind, instead she stared at his face with wonder of his weapon as he seems to be sacrificing his weapon to her.

Without another second of thought, Alea steps back from the Lieutenant with the gun in her left hand. Her right hand hovers lightly over it and her fingertips grasp the slide, pulling it back as she checks to be sure the gun is loaded and the bullet chambered. She releases the slide and turns back around, moving her index finger near the trigger. The G17C is a very safe gun, having this chosen weapon tells a lot about the one who chooses to wield it. Alea brings the gun forward with her left hand as her right hand rests beneath the magazine with it to cup it in her hand, keeping the barrel directed toward the ground. She steps ahead of the group to take point as her eyes glance from left to right, checking ahead forward. Her eye lids lightly close over her eyes for a second and she reopens them... she can hear her heartbeat. The voices in her head have been silenced, even the thoughts in her mind were silenced. Everything is quiet. Her quick steps ahead of the group keep her at point as she makes her way toward their destination, step by step, being sure to keep a close hold to her teammates without giving up the lead.

David grunted. "Alright, Carlos, you're on point with her. The rest of you, fall in." Carlos grunted, moving up to walk beside Alea, though he made it a point to keep his distance from her.

David turned, facing Rek and speaking a bit less loudly. "You have any Idea why they would assign a headcase to this? I mean, I've seen command do some really unorthodox things, but this..."

Malconin had watched the whole exchange, shaking his head as he slowly walked up next to David and Rek.

"Is a danger to us all," Malconin finished for him. "Which also makes her a danger to...what?"

He looked Rek and then in turn David, in the eye. "Just what the hell is waiting for us down here?"

Rek's eyes seemed to stare through and passed Malconin, back towards the truck, as they gained a distant perspective. His voice was matching in tone and level with Davids. "I don't know. If this is their way of tellling us we have seven hours..." his eyes snapped back to the immediate. "I'm gonna have a quick word with our, Doc. We'd better keep moving. Malconin, you okay to bring up the rear." There was no sense of question to the 'request', which implied statement. Rek nodded to them both before he had finished speaking, and had turned and began walking away.

He caught up with Chris. When he was finally close enough to speak quietly, and fell into step beside the man. "Doc, I need your professional opinion on Alea, and what you think that stuff was, I've never seen anything like it."

(at the moment everyone knows Rek as Lieutenant, LT, Ranger, Mirez, so don't start calling him Rek verbally, yet. Our names, nicknames or even a code name will be printed on all the Hazmat suits specific to us, Rek's will say Rek etc. Command was quite clever is what they chose. We will shortly be entering the cargo transfer area in a posts time roughly, that is where our equipment has been set up and will be waiting for us.)

Chris had been keeping a close eye on Alea, watching the effects of the injection on the girl's body. Once she'd been ordered to point, he racked his brain, leafing mentally through an expansive list of medicine. She had a distinct variety of symptoms, and the injection seemed to quell them, but do something more at the same time.

"Doc, I need your professional opinion on Alea, and what you think that stuff was, I've never seen anything like it."

"That's 'cause there ain't anything like it, LT," he replies, "not from one drug. S'a cocktail, treatin' her schizophrenic tendencies along with settling her hyperactivity." He stoops down, pulling his pack back up and giving it a tap. "Might not know the exact mixture, but I should be able to mix up something to mimic the effect if'n she runs outta those needles."

"Good to know, doc," the lieutenant smiled, as he took the head of the group.

Merely five seconds later the group had emerged into a large well lit cargo-checking and transfer area. While not as big as one might expect, it was larger than Rek would had though. Large enough that the eight people that had just entered the area would feel lonely.

There were neatly stacked wooden and metal crates filling the area casting dark shadows, and a crane system overhead that when operational would carry boxes along the ceiling. As Rek glance around, he noticed that there was a kind-of rail tunnel decorating the far right wall of the underground warehouse, where a flat-bed cart lay stationed with a personnel cab behind it.

The room appeared to be empty, and there were several officer and crew areas off to the left, and in the centre was a large metal crate with 'HAZMAT' written on the side.

Rek guessed there may be an armoury here too, if this was a military operation.

Alea's eyes remained calm but became suspicious. She pushed the glock to her left hand and aimed it at her 11 o'clock. Her right hand had lowered to her waist and unlocked the holster on her right hip. Alea's fingers wrap around the grip of her USP. Notably, as she pulled the gun from its holster, her right foot slid back and the gun came out more smooth-- at the end of the pull, the gun was pointed at her 5 o'clock before rotating to her 1 o'clock position. She now has both guns directed forward at an angle as she walks at point. Her eyes glance from crate to crate, checking the shadows carefully yet with a quick stride. Her fingers rest over the triggers, rather then above them... anything that might attempt to take them by surprise would be shot the second it stepped out.

"Clearing.." Alea whispers, loud enough for the lieutenant to hear yet with enough silence to keep it from echoing in the room.

Empty
Empty
Empty

"Clear.." As they pass the definite area of danger through the crates, Alea holsters her USP and locks it in place. She then moves her hands back together to balance the G17. She aims it at her 12 o'clock, straight, with only slight wavers to the 11 and 1 o'clock positions.

"Stand down," Rek said lightly, letting the acoustics of the room carry his voice. "Looks like this crate is ours." He said as he approached the man and a half tall crate. It was gun-metal grey, with chrome trimmed doors and edges. There was a keypad and card-slot on the side panel, and there were visible but thin gaps about half a meter up from the bottom. These gaps ran around the entire bottom portion of the crate.

He examined the lettering on the side which read 'HAZMAT D/04' followed by the crates serial code, which he glanced at but paid it no mind. The crate itself was about the same size as two pick up trucks parked one behind the other, and about a third wider.

"Everyone feel free to look around, but be careful."

He gave a cautious glance to David and Malconin, before approaching the keypad. He hadn't been given a code, or a keycard to his knowledge. There was a small opaque plate underneath the panel. "Thumb scanner?" He asked himself quietly.

David watched the Lieutenant from a short distance away, leaning against a stack of crates idly. Carlos, meanwhile, was pacing around the room, more so to dispel what grogginess was left in him than to ease the boredom of standing in a room full of boxes with a bunch of strangers.

With a deep breath he activated the keypad, and after the screen lit-up and declared that it currently required a thumb-print he press his right thumb to the gray-ish scanner-plate. "Here goes..." He muttered, mostly to himself.

Alea takes a few steps back with her back to the Lieutenants. "He's warm." the thought was present, but not heard to herself. Without the ability to hear her own thoughts, Alea could not react to them. Instead, she remained at his back with her gun held low but firmly as if to ensure that he is kept safe.

Her eyes shift. Left. Right. Up. Down. She checks each of the other members of the squad to ensure that nobody attempts anything. Pushed into a combat situation, people have often revolted against the head of command. In their current position if anyone had any disagreements with being here, the one to voice them to would be the Lieutenant.

"Sir. What are we waiting for? If there are hostiles about, it's not wise to stay in one area for too long." Alea keeps her eyes pressed forward. She glares with intensity at everyone, as if a deep distrust of them all is present. Instead, this is just a normal habit for her. She's growing anxious, ready to press forward.

David raised an eyebrow at this, looking over at Alea. "Nobody said anything about hostiles..."

"There are always hostiles about..." Alea's eyes now lock onto David. "Don't be so foolish as to believe that everyone is your friend. You won't live long." with a cold glare passed, Alea's eyes remain focused on Davis as if suspicion has been aroused toward him. Alea knew that with every large squad of more then five people, the chances of there being a traitor become active. One in every six people of a squad are likely to be a traitor. Two of every twelve. When the number is higher then six, but less then twelve, there is a chance of an unknown secondary hostile but not always guaranteed. For that reason, there is never time to drop her guard. With the nine people present, that means it is possible that there are two traitors-- with David having been the first to call attention to her comment, he became the first suspect as a traitor. Should he make any suspicious moves from that point on-- Alea would not hesitate to putting him down. She does however, keep her gun lowered, as not to worry the Lieutenant of her actions.

The Lieutenant does in fact notice Alea's subtle actions, but for now he went ahead and pressed his thumb to the plate. After the panel gave a hesitant beep, green laser lights crossed his thumb, and a few moments later, the panel double beeped attracting his attention to the small LED display which gave him code to enter.

'3xy6wp09g'

He tried to memorise the code quickly as it scrolled off the display, and then re-entered it into the keypad and pressed enter. He waited for the keypad to confirm or deny that was what they were supposed to do. The Light Emitting Diode based display popped up three short words. 'HAVE A NICE DAY'

The Lieutenant frowned and slowly took a step backwards as explosive bolts blow around the top edge of the crate, and the sides clanged down, and Rek quickly dodged out of the way by an inch, to the floor, echoing loudly across the enclosed warehouse, and down into the train tunnel. The interior was initially cloudy, and dark, but several lights flickered on.

"Well I think we're in the right place. Gentlemen, ladies," he glanced around the room at the squad. "This is us."

Within the huge rectangle was a bunch human sized 'lockers'. Most notable or at the very least most obvious to the lieutenant was the one with his nickname and sometimes code-name; 'Rek' and Malconin's which was 'Orion'.

"Fall in."

"What is the plan, Lieutenant?" Alea steps around the Lieutenant and rotates the glock in her hand so the barrel is gripped. She holds the butt of the gun toward the lieutenant to return it to him. "What do we do from here?"