Log Title: Rescue Plans
Location: Airfield, Cobra Island
Year: 24 August 2009
TP: MARS Ascendant
Airfield - Cobra Island
- The main road comes to an end here at another clearing. A long airstrip runs across the clearing, in a roughly east to west direction. To the north of the strip, a series of hangars huddles at the edge of the forest.
Wild Weasel is on the airfield, personally checking over his craft post-landing.
Major Bludd stumps out toward the tarmac, dressed down in civvies, his hands in his pockets, looking for all the world like he's just out for a stroll.
Wild Weasel is focused at first on his task, and seems to be hissing quietly to himself as he inspects his Rattler for stress fatigue.
Destro heads out on the tarmac, looking over the veichles. He nods his head appreciativly at the tarmacs. "Always good to have a decent strike force. Of course, there will be some upgrades."
Wild Weasel glances over as his recognizes Destro's deep brogue. He straightens up quickly, and about-faces into a crisp salute.
Major Bludd notices the silver head and smirks, changing direction and angling toward Destro and Wild Weasel. "Might as well find out what's what, since I'm back here," he mutters to himself.
Wild Weasel spots Bludd approaching, and holds his salute.
Major Bludd lifts his hand in an automatic motion to return the salute, but seems to catch himself and turns it into a lazy half-wave. "Weasel," he greets, in typical fashion. He turns his gaze on Destro, offering the taller man a slight smile and nod. "G'day, Destro. What's news?"
Wild Weasel lowers his salute after Bludd's half-wave, but remains at attention.
Wild Weasel focuses his attention on the silver-masked mercenary (as opposed to the one-eyed one).
Destro pauses. "Greetings, Wild Weasel. Major Bludd." he says, nodding to each. "As you know, the Commander is still missing. I will make sure the island runs smoothly until his return or his death has been confirmed." knowing Destro, he'd be more happy with the later. "Anything new to report?"
Wild Weasel says, "Uh, yess and no, ssir. No word yet or radio contact from the Commander. The Joess have upped their patrolss, making it difficult to maintain ssearch and resscue operationss."
Major Bludd listens to Weasel's report, rocking back on his heels.
Wild Weasel sounds... pained, as if uncomfortable with what he has to report. If anything, his sibilant lisp more pronounced.
"Plannin' t'send out a rescue mission for 'im, then?" Bludd asks, turning his shaded gaze on Destro.
Wild Weasel looks from Bludd to Destro, but falls silent.
Destro's voice remains level. "Perhaps it is best to keep him in the Joes custody for now. There will be a time and place when they let their guard down. Then, we will stage a rescue."
Major Bludd cocks his head to the side. "D'you /know/ he's in the Joes' hands?"
Wild Weasel's body language expresses surprise at this assertion as well.
Destro pauses. "I can only assume with the increased patrols that that is the case. Have there been any reports to his location?"
Wild Weasel says, "No, ssir. My Sstrato-Viperss have maintained as closse patrol as posssible, but it'ss been difficult to avoid engagement. The Commander ssaid to sstay nearby and wait for radio contact for evac, but it'ss been dayss..."
"Could be they're lookin' for 'im," suggests Bludd. "Could be he's layin' low someplace. I reckoned you'd know more'n we do."
Destro mururs "Unfortunately, I do not. I will have to check with our information specialists." he clenches his fists at being kept in the dark about this. "Where are the patrols located?"
Wild Weasel says, "The Joess have been patrolling over the Wright-Pattersson Airbasse in Ohio, where the Commander dissappeared, and along the southern USs border, making it difficult to ssent in patrolss from Cobra Island."
Major Bludd folds his arms across his chest and strokes his chin with one hand. "Might be possible t'send in a covert team," he muses quietly, almost to himself.
Destro nods "What we could do, as the Major suggested is send in a commando team to check it out, yes. What specialists are available?"
Wild Weasel glances at Bludd, since this is really more his specialty.
Major Bludd shrugs a bit. "I'm just in from Zimbabwe," he says. "Haven't had time t'look over the rosters just yet."
Wild Weasel just remains silent.
Major Bludd runs a hand through his hair. "Now I'm back 'ere," he drawls, "I c'n take a look and set up an op." He glances up at Destro, smiling. "'Long as someone's still writin' th' checks, that is."
Destro looks to Major Bludd. "The payments will be the same as usual. Until we know for sure what has happened to Cobra Commander."
Major Bludd grins. "Then all y'gotta do is say the word, and I'll hop right to it," he declares cheerfully.
Destro nods "Look into it, Major. I trust your intelligence. I will also have my own Grenadiers check in on it, as well."
Wild Weasel looks from Bludd to Destro. "Will thiss team require aerial inssertion?"
Destro pauses. "I believe so. It would be the best way to get by the line of defense."
Wild Weasel nods. "I will be happy to provide."
"Air insertion, check," says Bludd. "I'll be needin' whatever info y'both have on the locale, o'course."
Wild Weasel nods sharply. "My Sstrato-Viperss have collected much intelligensce with their flybyss. I will make ssure it is passsed along to you as well as the Baronesss."
Destro nods "I will check with the Baroness as well. We have much to discuss about the fate of the Island in the Commander's absence."
Wild Weasel glances sharply at Destro, but again holds his tongue.
A mischievous smile flashes over Bludd's features at Destro's words. "'M sure."
Destro nods "I'll be coordinating that team. If there are any other issues that must be dealt with, let me know now."
Wild Weasel says, "Should I maintain pressent patrolss, or pull back until we gain more intelligensce?"
Destro murmurs "Gather the intelligence, then report to me."
Major Bludd lifts an eyebrow, but says nothing.
Wild Weasel nods. "Yessir. I'll add the data collected by tonight'ss run to what I've gathered already, and send along everything together."
Major Bludd chuckles darkly, casting Destro a knowing glance that is, fortunately, hidden behind his sunglasses. "Of course. I'll let you know as soon as I'm ready to roll on this. You fill in the timeframe."
Wild Weasel says, "I will be ready to move when you are, ssirss."
Destro nods "At your choosing. There is no rush. Im sure the commander can take care of himself."
Wild Weasel says, "I ssuppose he did come back from the dead..."
Destro nods "Yes. He has his way of returning to us..doesn't he?"
Wild Weasel straightens up again. "When he does, I will be prepared!"
Destro nods "Yes.." he says darkly. "And so will I."
Wild Weasel cocks his head slightly at Destro's dark tone, but he hasn't stayed alive this long by asking questions.
Major Bludd nods to both men. "I'll be in touch, gents. Right now I need t'get m'clock reset t'Cobra time."
Destro nods "It has been a long day hasn't it. Keep me informed. If all else fails, and hte commander is not returned. I will take good care of the island."
Wild Weasel looks from Bludd to Destro. "Uh, yesssir. I will collect tonight's data immediately and have it to you within the hour."
"Longer'n you think. You didn't dial yer day back several hours t'day," Bludd drawls, turning to head back toward the main road.
Destro nods "No, you're right. I've been moving forward." he says. "Excellant, Weasel. Continue to do an excellant job."
Wild Weasel nods sharply. "Yessir."
Major Bludd stumps back across the tarmac.
Wild Weasel remains at attention until dismissed or left behind.