White Forest

[remindmeof_me]

The chopper's made good time, for all that Adrian's periodically had to circle around, double back, or otherwise divert from his planned course. He's thrown off his pursuers or left them in pieces on the ground, and he's taken down a dropship or two (one he considers a confirmed kill, and one he thinks might've made it out alive- but no way in hell

Comments

[subject_lj_here]

"Adrian," Chell calls tentatively, "I've got... my jumpsuit that we can use as a flag. Just in case."

[remindmeof_me]

"That oughta work," Shephard agrees after a moment's thought. "Doubt they'll let us get close enough for them t'see the new paint. Got enough room back there to get out of it?"

[subject_lj_here]

She nods, curtly. "Yes."

[remindmeof_me]

"Good. Get started. I'm gonna see if I can get this fucker to hover properly."

Vertical ascent he can do, and landing he can just barely do, but hovering without losing or gaining altitude... ahahahaha.

[blueshifted]

"You need anything from me?" Barney asks softly, trying not to disturb the other man's concentration too much.

[remindmeof_me]

"Don't suppose you could help me raise the base on the chopper radio?" says Shephard a little hopelessly. "If that don't work then we'll just have to figger out how to fasten that jumpsuit so it don't blow away in the prop wash."

[blueshifted]

Barney nods. "I can sure as hell try... it looks a bit different from the radios we use, but I'll make it work."

[remindmeof_me]

"Sure would give me one less thing to worry about," says Shephard. "Thanks, Mr. Calhoun."

(He'd like very much to be reverting to his favorite hymn for servicemen about now, since it has specialized verses specifically for pilots and other travelers in the sky, but the problem is that none of them have anything to do with landing. Soaring through space and eagle flight are wonderful images, but they are not very comforting when your job is to stay in one spot and not get shot at.)

[blueshifted]

Barney makes the quick walk to the other side of the control panel, flipping through frequencies to see if he can get into the White Forest secure channel from here.

[subject_lj_here]

Chell, on the other hand, has gotten her jumpsuit off (kneeling to take it off is much easier, especially with the heelsprings), and walks up softly to Adrian.

"When you need it," she whispers.

[remindmeof_me]

"Thanks, Chell," Adrian answers quietly. "I figure we'll run it out the door once Mr. Calhoun gets the base on the horn. Don't wanna take a chance on losing it before they know we're comin'."

[subject_lj_here]

"Alright," she says, and retreats back to the turret just in case.

"Let me know if you see anything coming."

[blueshifted]

Barney just clicks through the radio, getting only static where the main White Forest frequency is supposed to be. He's not going to be so easily defeated, though.

[remindmeof_me]

"Might want to hail 'em yourself," Shephard murmurs. "We don't exactly look like a friendly. I'd be running pretty fuckin' silent myself, in their shoes."

[blueshifted]

"Yeah... just... listening. To see if it's the right station."

He keeps tuning, and eventually he hears what he's looking for--a sequence of numbers: 4, 8, 15, 16, 23 and 42. He picks up the receiver carefully, calling out, "Okay--yes? White Forest? This is Barney Calhoun... White Forest, do you read me?"

[smelltheashes]

Dead silence on the other end of the line.