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Post by shiftyPotentate on Oct 2, 2011 20:55:51 GMT -5
Exiting Japanese Airspace, en route to United States air base
August 2, 1945
Another successful mission. Why wouldn't it be? Task Force 43 had only ever failed one mission. And even that had been more than made up for. The Reich had regretted that one. An eye for an eye at least made you feel better.
This time, TF43 had successfully exfilled straggler Allied forces out of the Japanese area, and were en route back to American soil. Apparently the US Government had something big planned for the Japs. They were getting EVERYBODY the hell out*.
As their airplane flew over the Atlantic Ocean, one particular soldier happened to glance out the right side window. A vague island on the horizon up ahead. Hawaii. The entire reason they were even fighting in the first place lay there. Japanese forces had attacked it for seemingly no reason. The next day, everybody and their mother had been crying out for war.
The soldier in question, the only woman on board, looked around the cabin. The other passengers were the rest of her squad. Every one of them owed each other their lives at some point. They were all as one. They'd be more of one had it not been for Germany.
Cheryl regretted that day deeply.
She tried to move on from it. She kept her eye forward, the scope never looked back. Never. Neither should she.
Suddenly the plane hit some turbulence. Imaginative swears came issuing forth from the speakers. Cheryl looked forward again.
Just what the sam hill was that?? she barely had time to think, before the wormhole swallowed the plane in a flash.
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"All flight systems are down!" "What the hell was that thing?" "We're going down!!"
Chatter came issuing from the PA of the plane, evidently enough to spook both the pilot and the copilot.
Whatever happened, it couldn't have been good.
"Might want to hang onto something!" Sage advice from the man next to her, Mason. That was his codename, anyway. He was the demolitions expert. Ironic.
So Cheryl did. She strapped herself in as tight as she could. If she was bouncing around the cabin on impact, she'd be toast. The plane began to arc dangerously toward the ground, the wings giving out a loud, annoyed groan of tension. Ammo crates and supplies started to shift forward with the change of gravity.
So did one unfortunate soldier who hadn't had time to strap in yet. Cheryl caught his hand and hoisted him to the spot next to her.
Out the window, Cheryl could only see trees. Trees which were rapidly becoming enormous. This would not be a comfortable landing.
There was a loud crash, and Cheryl's body sustained the g-force, and she blacked out.
Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinggg
Her head was ringing. She felt coolness on her forehead, a small part of it. Blood. Trickling... up? How.........?
She hardly had time to think this before she was out again.
*The bombing of Hiroshima took place August 6, 1945. Hence the reason the military was in such a hurry to get their people as far away from it as possible.
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Post by gantzgun74 on Oct 2, 2011 22:08:17 GMT -5
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Somewhere outside of Cheryl's sense of consciousness, she would have been aware of a metal scraping sound, as well as a loud creaking noise... Had her eyes been opened she would've seen a section of the wall on the plane open up, right around where the side door of the plane would have been...
Had she been awake... She would have seen an odd figure make it's way into the plane, taking in the wreckage.
To be frank, said figure had seen stuff like this a million times. It just came with the territory... It just came with the job. When he first arrived at this forest, he had to take a few minutes to try and figure out the situation to which lead him to this miserable bunch of trees, leaves and shrubbery. He really couldn't think of anything before his finely tuned sense of smell picked up what smelled like smoke...
When he arrived, he found a crashed plane, in the midst of the forest, missing a wing, and a good portion of it's back end. Only the passenger section and the front section of the plane remained...
What caught the figures attention however was the plane was military issue... and when he examined the number on the side, he was surprised to find out that it was from a model that existed well over 60 years ago...
But in any case, exploration and investigation quickly came to mind. It was a self assigned mission but it was a good start...
And thus here he was... Sheesh... How long had this thing been crashed here? Sighing, he pulled out a flashlight and proceeded to scan the plane... Huh, nothing too mysterio-
Clank!
When the figure turned, he saw what appeared to be a gun on the floor... Where did that come from?
When he looked up he got his answer...
Soldiers, maybe betwee 5-10 were strapped in to their seats... When the figure looked around, he saw plenty more dead ones lying on the ground... Or rather cieling. He shook his head pitiably before he pulled out an odd looking scanner device. Alright... Time to do a body count...
The scanner moved over the bodies one by one. For each one however, the scanner let out a beeping noise and a red light appeared on it... The figure couldn't help but shake his head... Wow... So many good men...
Plop!
The figure's ears tilted at this, as he reached onto his head where a fedora hat was present and felt at the opposing liquid...
Blood.
He sighed a great deal. Great, one of them was dead and a bleeder... Go figure... He looked up and shined the flashlight...
One could tell the figure was surprised when he found a young woman, barely looked around 24... Jeeze... To be killed in the prime of her life, and in such a horrifying fashion... Sighing, the figure lifted the scanner up to scan the woman, deciding to make the investigation end officially...
However the machine buzzed and beeped and a green light came on, rather then the single beep and the red light...
Oh my god...
She was alive...
Hours since Crash: 2 hours
3 minutes since recovery...
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It took a few minutes to get the woman down from her seat, but after it was done, the figure carried her out of the wreckage...
Okay, stay calm... Think... What do you need to survive out in the wild...
Supplies...
The figure looked down at his jacket...
Okay check... Now, he just needed some place warm... A shelter!
The figure's eyes brightened as he reached into his jacket and produced a small capsule...
Yeah, this would do the trick...
[When Cheryl wakes up, she'll wake up in general comfort inside a small house... Yes, Secret is carrying around something similar to a DBZ 'Capsule Corp' house. XD Makes sense right?]
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Post by shiftyPotentate on Oct 3, 2011 1:56:34 GMT -5
Cheryl faded in and out of consciousness. Blood loss and trauma tended to do that. She did hear the beeping of his scanner. She tried to say something but unconsciousness claimed her once more.
She came to briefly once more, in his arms. She was vaguely aware of what she had, or rather didn't have. Her things. Then, she was out again.
When she came to fully, she was resting in a comfortable bed. She stayed silent, her training coming back to her.
If you find yourself in unfamiliar territory, stay quiet and look around. Ten seconds of observation can save your life.
So she looked around. She was in some kind of cottage, not exactly a Russian gulag. Probably unthreatening, though it could have been a Japanese safehouse.
Her equipment, sans weapons, was still on her. Whoever held her clearly had no interest in disarming her, as she still had her hunting knife in its sheath on her leg. Her rifle and handgun on the other hand. They'd still be in the wreckage of the plane.
She sat up, getting a bearing on her surroundings. No visible door leading outside. And guards could be posted. She quietly slipped out of her bed, feeling her head throb. She drew up her hunting knife. Oh well, not like she hadn't been stuck behind enemy lines without her weapons before. At least she had her knife.
Cheryl slowly walked to the door of the room she was in, turning the knob as quietly as possible...
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Post by gantzgun74 on Oct 3, 2011 2:11:20 GMT -5
When Cheryl opened the door, she was treated with the sight of a homely living space... With computers up the wazoo, situated against the walls. She took a look around to find a plate of berries, peanuts and an assortment of fruit on the table. Either it had been left out for her or left out forgotten...
This author is willing to assume Cheryl thought the latter was more likely.
Slowly sneaking into the room, she got a better look at the computers, they were mechanical marvels well ahead of her time. She probably would've seen such marvels if she read short fiction depicting such wonders.
There came the sound of a radio wave, which whined as it tried to tune in.
"Hello? Is anyone out there?"
When Cheryl turned she found the top of a fedora poked out from the top of a computer chair nearby. A hand that looked brown turned a dial on the machine, though the hand's owner remained out of sight.
"Hello? Hello? This is Agent Triple Zero of the Super Secret Service calling out to any occupying agents in the near vicinity. Is there anyone out there?" He appeared to groan at the lack of response as he turned the dial again, finding another steady channel. "Hello? Hello? This is Agent Triple Zero of the Super Secret Service... Is anyone out there?"
Again no response.
This cued the man to let out an annoyed groan as he rubbed the top of his Fedora...
To be honest, from where Cheryl stood, she was unsure if this man was an African American or something else... His skin looked too light brown to be that...
And was it her imagination or did it look like that hand was covered with hair?
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Post by shiftyPotentate on Oct 3, 2011 15:33:51 GMT -5
The sniper had certainly seen readouts and LCDs before, but nothing anywhere near this advanced. The table was set to entertain guests, presumably. Either this was the coziest Japanese stronghold ever, or she was in some kind of dream.
Then again, dreams didn't usually have throbbing headaches and painful gashes on your arms. Which she noticed had been tended to. Curiouser.
Cheryl heard the electronic whine of the radio, as well as the voice of the person using it. Looking for people? Agent Triple Zero? Super Secret Service? What the hell kind of organization had captured her? She was a little relieved that this mysterious stranger was speaking English, and of distinctly American-sounding organizations. He no doubt was the one who'd rescued her.
But what exactly was he? The hair and coloration were too suspicious. She decided she had to know. Gripping the knife more tightly in her hand, she reached out with her free hand and spun whoever it was around to face her. She made sure he saw the knife to show she meant business.
But she nearly dropped it when she saw him.
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Post by gantzgun74 on Oct 3, 2011 18:13:37 GMT -5
?!?!?! "H-HEY!!"
The chair turned...
And Cheryl got a full look at what appeared to be Squirrel about 4 feet tall, wearing a silver trech coat, and his purple fedora pulled over his face doubling as a mask. For what reason, Cheryl knew not.
For a few seconds, Secret was unsure what to do in that moment. He was willing to guess that this girl had never seen a toon before. If her plane had really disappeared 60 years ago, and popped up again now, she wouldn't be familiar with cartoons.
Sighing at the dropped knife, he figured he'd try his best to make this situation seem completely natural for the girl's sake.
"Oh... So your awake are you?" He stood up in his seat, effectively bringing him up to eye level with the woman. "I have to ask you not to panic. Your concussion would react if you did." A second later he shrugged. "If I had thought to bring a type of healing device with me, I could have handled that in a heartbeat... But careless me, you see... I did what I could, as you can tell by your bandages."
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Post by shiftyPotentate on Oct 3, 2011 21:20:23 GMT -5
The squirrel-thing was unlike anything Finch had ever seen. And that was saying something. In her time she'd seen everything from weaponized animals to superweapons. And yet this four foot tall... squirrel took the cake.
Not only that it was a squirrel that'd carried her, but that it was talking to her. Regaining her composure, she knelt to pick up her knife and sheath it. He was right about one thing. Her concussion was still troubling her. A particularly nasty throb reminded her of this.
"Yes, I'm awake," she said. "Where in heaven's name am I? Who are you? And... where are my weapons?" This last question was particularly important to her. Her M1C Garand had seen her through countless engagements, she knew its ups and downs. She had grown attached and didn't want to lose it!
"And what on earth is the Super Secret Service? I've never heard of it."
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Post by gantzgun74 on Oct 4, 2011 17:26:24 GMT -5
Secret momentarily took in the questions. He had to admit, this girl sure asked a lot of questions... Well, at least they were the right ones. Clearing his throat, he tilted his hat in greeting. "Oh of course, where are my manners... I am Agent Triple Zero, Codename 'Secret Squirrel' of the The SSS, or the 'Super Secret Society'." He shrugged. "Please understand that the government office is classified for a reason... But I will be fair; the SSS is an American Government facility situated in Holywood, California. Everything beyond that however, is classified beyond top secret."
He looked around. "As for where we are... Not even I am sure... This house we are in is a capsule house I happened to have on hand for shelter, and I have been trying non-stop since finding you to contact my fellow agents... No luck unfortunately."
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Post by shiftyPotentate on Oct 5, 2011 17:00:01 GMT -5
"Secret Squirrel?" Well that name made perfect sense. And she understood the need for classified information. He checked out, and she relaxed her guard a little bit. He at least seemed friendly. And they were both lost and trying to find people. Which reminded her!
"You... you found me in a plane crash, right??" she asked, a little more insistently than normal. "Where was it? I need to see it... I need to see the rest of my squad. Please."
Figuring it would help, Cheryl decided to give her name and rank. "I'm Cheryl Finch, a member of United States Task Force 43. I was a markswoman, and we were on our way home from an engagement in Japan... Our plane hit some kind of turbulence, I suppose, and then we crashed in that forest..."
She looked around for the door, already antsy. She steeled herself and calmed her nerves. This was no time to lose her composure. Situational awareness did not smile on the anxious soldier.
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Post by gantzgun74 on Oct 7, 2011 0:22:19 GMT -5
Secret saw the woman's anxiety as she introduced herself and asked her questions. He seemed a mite confused at why she would ask about her plane. Before anything else, he took note of her regime and where she had claimed to have been posted, before he looked to the girl as regretfully as he could. "Miss Finch... I'm... Not sure how to tell you this... Likely you have figured it out for yourself but... You are the sole survivor of that crash-"
He saw her expression and how she kept on eyeing the door. The poor girl... "I can assure you, if you go looking for the plane you will not find any live man amidst the wreckage." He shook his head pitifully. "I am sorry... I truely am..."
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Post by shiftyPotentate on Oct 7, 2011 18:45:38 GMT -5
Cheryl already kind of suspected that. "I... It's okay," she said, keeping her voice neutral. She kept her emotions in check. "Please, though, I have to see it. To recover my belongings, and..." She thought. "To make an accurate report of the incident."
All the members of her team were dead...? She'd failed... again?
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Post by gantzgun74 on Oct 11, 2011 16:14:52 GMT -5
At first, the cartoon squirrel wanted to point out the futility of such a venture... But seeing her sad and desperate face... Well... "Fine. I shall show you the wreckage... A little warning though... It's not a pretty sight."
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A few seconds later Secret and Cheryl found themselves right outside the airplane's wreckage. It looked like it hadn't been moved even in the slightest since he had last seen it. As Cheryl approached the wreckage, Secret pulled out a laptop and pulled up the SSS's data banks. "If you plan on checking out the wreckage, make sure you keep my warning in mind." As he said that, he launched a search on the data banks, though for what Cheryl was unsure...
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Post by shiftyPotentate on Oct 11, 2011 16:30:44 GMT -5
She understood. He had assured her no one was alive. But she had to see for herself. Carefully climbing into the wreckage, Cheryl had to turn away at the sight. He was right. Every single member of her task force was dead, either from the impact of the landing or from impalement or crushing from the wreckage. She realized how fortunate she had been to survive. Though right now, it felt like a curse.
Dutifully, though, she checked the pulses of everyone she could reach. Not a beat among them. From each of them, she reached into their coats, feeling in the lining for something. To protect their secrecy, unlike regular soldiers, none of them wore traditional dog tags. Instead they were embroidered into the lining of their coats. She recovered everyone's tags, pocketing them all.
She then took the weapons she could find, tossing them out of the wreckage, before finally collecting her own. Her sniper and pistol. She holstered the handgun and slipped the sniper around her shoulder, and collected as much ammunition as she could. She bowed her head for a moment of silence for her fallen teammates.
Extricating herself from the wreck, she took one of the rifles she'd acquired, shoving it into the dirt barrel down, and removing the firing pin. The gun could now no longer fire. She arranged the rest of the guns around the rifle, disabling them as well, before hanging the dog tags from the butt of the rifle. A marker for her team. She took her knife, and on the backside of one of the tags, etched out four symbols.
Tango Foxtrot Four Three. TF43.
She stood back up, giving the plane one last look, before turning back to Secret.
"Thank you."
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Post by gantzgun74 on Oct 11, 2011 16:41:48 GMT -5
By the time Cheryl appeared to finish, Secret appeared to finish whatever he was doing on his laptop. Putting it away, he smiled weakly. "You are quite welcome... Again, I apologize for your team. You must feel horrible..."
Momentarily, he eyed the plane. "I... Suppose you found what you were looking for?"
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Post by shiftyPotentate on Oct 11, 2011 16:46:53 GMT -5
She stared at him, and patted the rifle slung on her back, and nodded toward the marker she'd made for her team. "Yeah, I guess I did." She walked up to him, and stood by his side. "Did you finish what you needed to do? Because I don't think it's good to just stick around here in this forest." She forced a smile. "We should keep moving."
Not only that, she wanted answers. What the hell had happened to them? Did they get shot down? It was a little hazy, but whatever had happened... had their journey been worth it?
Did they die for nothing?
Cheryl shook her head. Couldn't think too much on that now. Judging by Secret's impressive technology, it was several years in her future at the very least. Surely the war was over by now, right?
And if it was... then she could concentrate less on secret missions and impossible tasks and more on herself, and being a better person. Protecting those who needed it.
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