Where Legal Eagles Dare: An Opco Boone Adventure: Difference between revisions

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{{a|opcoboone|}}The eighteen-wheeler rumbled on through the desert, flanked by a pair of [[COO]] gunships.  
{{a|opcoboone|}}The eighteen-wheeler rumbled on through the desert, flanked by a pair of [[COO]] gunships.  


Senior Operations Officer [[Heinrich Schweiner]] set his jaw, his gimlet eye fixed on the horizon. Right now, the rig was handling ''real'' nice. ''Sweet ride'', he thought. But with seventy tons of state-of-the-art ultra-[[modernist]] [[Middle-management|mano-tech]] under the hood, you’d expect that. This baby practically drove itself.  
Senior Operations Officer [[Heinrich Kurzweil]] fixed his gimlet eye on the horizon. The rig was handling ''real'' nice. ''Sweet ride'', he thought. But with seventy tons of state-of-the-art ultra-[[modernist]] [[Middle-management|mano-tech]] under the hood, you’d expect that. This baby practically drove itself.  


Schweiner was tense; on high alert — but ''calm''. He blinked to bring up the [[MIS]] feed in his head-up display. It swept a sixty-five degree field, left and right. The [[RAG indicator]]s read green across the board: optimal — just a couple of minor blips, 300 yards out, at 40 degrees from true.  
Kurzweil was tense; on high alert — but ''calm''. He blinked to bring up the [[MIS]] feed in his head-up display. It swept a sixty-five degree field, left and right. The [[RAG indicator]]s read green across the board: optimal — just a couple of minor blips, 300 yards out, at 40 degrees from true.  


Schweiner picked up the intercom. “You seein’ these, Bugsy?”  
Kurzweil picked up the intercom. “You seein’ these, Bugsy?”  


“On the [[MIS]]? Yeah, boss, I’m seein’ ’em,” Bugsy was Brooklyn-tough. Schweiner dug his earthy attitude. “A couple of doc jocks, I think. All cool.”
“On the [[MIS]]? Yeah, boss, I’m seein’ ’em,” Bugsy was Brooklyn-tough. Kurzweil dug his earthy attitude. “A couple of doc jocks, I think. All cool.”


Schweiner screwed in the ESPER scope and brought up a video feed. Sure enough: two [[negotiator]]s lumbering awkwardly around an execution memo. Youngsters. No real threat at this distance, but Schweiner knew it narked Bugsy, all the same.  
Kurzweil screwed in the ESPER scope and brought up a video feed. Sure enough: two [[negotiator]]s lumbering awkwardly around an execution memo. Youngsters. No real threat at this distance, but Kurzweil knew it narked Bugsy, all the same.  


“Want me to clear ’em out, Schweiner?”  
“Want me to clear ’em out, Kurzweil?”  


Schweiner shrugged. “We’re all good, aren’t we, Bugsy?”  
Kurzweil shrugged. “We’re all good, aren’t we, Bugsy?”  


“According to policy 230823.913 revision nine, they count as hostiles. It’s no trouble, boss-man. Seriously.” Bugsy loved to throw the book. He had a wild streak — hell, most uniform bulls in legal ops did: the [[chief double-oh]] encouraged it. But this was no reluctant policy compliance matter for Operating Officer Cadet [[Walter N. Buggs]], [[MBA|M.B.A.]] (Insead). This was ''job satisfaction''.  “C’mon: It’s in the [[service catalog]], Schweins.” Bugsy was pleading now.
“According to policy 230823.913 revision nine, they count as hostiles. It’s no trouble, boss-man. Seriously.” Bugsy loved to throw the book. He had a wild streak — hell, most uniform bulls in legal ops did: the [[chief double-oh]] encouraged it. But this was no reluctant policy compliance matter for Operating Officer Cadet [[Walter N. Buggs]], [[MBA|M.B.A.]] (Insead). This was ''job satisfaction''.  “C’mon: It’s in the [[service catalog]], Kurtzy.” Bugsy was pleading now.


“Ahh, hang it, Bugs. Why the hell not? Go on: light ’em up.”  
“Ahh, hang it, Bugs. Why the hell not? Go on: light ’em up.”  
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“Yee-hah!” Bugsy’s turret retracted.  
“Yee-hah!” Bugsy’s turret retracted.  


Schweiner re-blinked up the [[MIS]] readout in his head-up display for [[SME]] activity. ''Beautiful'': flatline.  
Kurzweil re-blinked up the [[MIS]] readout in his head-up display for [[SME]] activity. ''Beautiful'': flatline.  


“That’ll do, Bugsy, you mad bastard,” Schweiner chuckled. “Confirmed kills. Chalk up the [[KPI]]s and let’s get those portfolios reassigned to [[School-leaver from Bucharest|Bucharest]] [[toot-sweet]].”
“That’ll do, Bugsy, you mad bastard,” Kurzweil chuckled. “Confirmed kills. Chalk up the [[KPI]]s and let’s get those portfolios reassigned to [[School-leaver from Bucharest|Bucharest]] [[toot-sweet]].”


“On it, boss.”  
“On it, boss.”  
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“Roger that, Blitz. We just cleared out a couple of junior bogeys — stats to follow. We are fully operationalised and all systems go, Request go for [[playbook]].”   
“Roger that, Blitz. We just cleared out a couple of junior bogeys — stats to follow. We are fully operationalised and all systems go, Request go for [[playbook]].”   


“KPI-Delta-One-Niner, you are confirmed go for Operation [[Playbook]],” Blitzer’s tone turned familiar. “Rock that house, Schweiner, you crazy sumbitch. Central Control — out.”
“KPI-Delta-One-Niner, you are confirmed go for Operation [[Playbook]],” Blitzer’s tone turned familiar. “Rock that house, Kurzweil, you crazy sumbitch. Central Control — out.”


Schweiner punched in. “That’s an A.O.K., Blitzer, my man. We are gunning in for final approach. We’ll be home by five: put the beers on ice. This KPI-Delta-One-Niner — over and out.”
Kurzweil punched in. “That’s an A.O.K., Blitzer, my man. We are gunning in for final approach. We’ll be home by five: put the beers on ice. This KPI-Delta-One-Niner — over and out.”


Schweiner checked the clock. They were making good time. The payload was primed. Speed was steady. ''There would be dogfights later; let’s keep the gang loose for now.''  
Kurzweil checked the clock. They were making good time. The payload was primed. Speed was steady. ''There would be dogfights later; let’s keep the gang loose for now.''  


“O.K., Bugsy. Stand down and accelerate. Let’s get this show on the road.”
“O.K., Bugsy. Stand down and accelerate. Let’s get this show on the road.”


Schweiner stomped on metal.  
Kurzweil stomped on metal.  


Bugsy gunned the wagon.
Bugsy gunned the wagon.
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Boone looked up from the wrist-comm. He regarded the great expanse, yawning away beneath him to the far horizon, where a curlicue of smoke bleached pink in the dying sunset rose above Lawyertown, from where, in a forensic bunker, the GC addressed him. For a moment, Boone smiled. He wallowed in brilliantine recollections of those wondrous times; that beautiful settlement. These were his kin. His people. His ''life''. His ''home''. Boone drank it in: the beauty. The tranquil traditions. The ancient beauty. The august institutions. The whole gamut of ''[[precedent]]''. Imponderable. ''Indispensable''.
Boone looked up from the wrist-comm. He regarded the great expanse, yawning away beneath him to the far horizon, where a curlicue of smoke bleached pink in the dying sunset rose above Lawyertown, from where, in a forensic bunker, the GC addressed him. For a moment, Boone smiled. He wallowed in brilliantine recollections of those wondrous times; that beautiful settlement. These were his kin. His people. His ''life''. His ''home''. Boone drank it in: the beauty. The tranquil traditions. The ancient beauty. The august institutions. The whole gamut of ''[[precedent]]''. Imponderable. ''Indispensable''.


Chip wanted to tackle this invasion, head-on. “We’ve charged up the ineffability shields. We’ve flooded the prolixity ditches. We’re confident they’ll hold. We need you back here Boone.”
Chip wanted to tackle this invasion, head-on. “We’ve charged up the ineffability shields. We’ve flooded the prolixity ditches. We’re confident they’ll hold. We need you ''back here'', Boone.”


Could she not see what was coming? From up here, as this convoy of wreckers drilled relentlessly across the badlands at the settlement, like some crazed Taliban, propelled by demented organisational theory, it was crystal clear. This was a mobile apocalypse, a direct vector, thundering across the desert to destroy the civilisation and everything it stood for — down to every last goddamn ''brick''. Did Chip just expect them to stand there while the double-ohs ran over them?  
Could she not see what was coming? From up here, as this convoy of wreckers drilled relentlessly across the badlands at the settlement, like some crazed Taliban, propelled by demented organisational theory, it was crystal clear. This was a mobile apocalypse, a direct vector, thundering across the desert to destroy the civilisation and everything it stood for — down to every last goddamn ''brick''. Did Chip just expect them to stand there while the double-ohs ran over them?  
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“Not while there’s breath in me,” Boone said.  
“Not while there’s breath in me,” Boone said.  


<center>***</center>
Kurzweil flipped through the dossier.
<center>***</center>
The wrist-com crackled. The comlink channel was open.
The wrist-com crackled. The comlink channel was open.


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“GODDAMN IT B—”
“GODDAMN IT B—”


Boone stood on the cliff edge. As he snapped it down, the sun caught his visor for an instant and flashed a beam down into the valley. If Operating Officer Schweiner caught the sparkle through his windscreen, ten klicks, away it didn't register in the progress of that train of destruction.  
Boone stood on the cliff edge. As he snapped it down, the sun caught his visor for an instant and flashed a beam down into the valley. If Operating Officer Kurzweil caught the sparkle through his windscreen, ten klicks, away it didn't register in the progress of that train of destruction.  
   
   
Opco Boone knew the time had come. He inched to the cliff-edge. A brisk thermal whistled up the couloir.
Opco Boone knew the time had come. He inched to the cliff-edge. A brisk thermal whistled up the couloir.
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Boone flipped off the safety catch on his wingsuit, caught the buffet, and ''dived''.
Boone flipped off the safety catch on his wingsuit, caught the buffet, and ''dived''.
<center>***</center>
<center>***</center>
Schweiner flipped the rig onto auto and started to tool up. The rig steered itself.  
Kurzweil flipped the rig onto auto and started to tool up. The rig steered itself.  


Schweiner took a moment to take in the grandeur of the desert. The windscreen gave a rich panorama. The mountains swept up to a vertical, levelling off to a table four thousand metres above the valley floor. They rose like — like — well, like ''[[Africa|Olympus above the Serengeti]]''.  
Kurzweil took a moment to take in the grandeur of the desert. The windscreen gave a rich panorama. The mountains swept up to a vertical, levelling off to a table four thousand metres above the valley floor. They rose like — like — well, like ''[[Africa|Olympus above the Serengeti]]''.  


High up on the ''gipfel'' the setting sun picked out a halo of the eagles circling the summit. Suddenly, one wing-morphed and dropped. Schweiner double-took: That is one ''absolute unit'' of a hunting bird — some monstrous condor. At this remove, the majestic predator seemed to drift so serenely down from the crest, but Schweiner knew it was dropping like a bullet towards some hapless creature on the valley floor.  
High up on the ''gipfel'' the setting sun picked out a halo of the eagles circling the summit. Suddenly, one wing-morphed and dropped. Kurzweil double-took: That is one ''absolute unit'' of a hunting bird — some monstrous condor. At this remove, the majestic predator seemed to drift so serenely down from the crest, but Kurzweil knew it was dropping like a bullet towards some hapless creature on the valley floor.  


''Wonder who''. “Poor bastard,” Schweiner murmured, slipping into Kevlar body-armour in preparation for his own upcoming fire-fight. He wondered whereabouts on the plain the unfortunate animal was. It occurred that anything bigger than a rabbit should should show up on the dash.  
''Wonder who''. “Poor bastard,” Kurzweil murmured, slipping into Kevlar body-armour in preparation for his own upcoming fire-fight. He wondered whereabouts on the plain the unfortunate animal was. It occurred that anything bigger than a rabbit should should show up on the dash.  


Schweiner checked the HUD: the RAG system still flat-lined.  
Kurzweil checked the HUD: the RAG system still flat-lined.  


He checked the LIDAR feed. ''Zilch''.  
He checked the LIDAR feed. ''Zilch''.  
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Boone yanked the ripcord. The brake-chute bloomed. Boone jerked back and up. He flipped a backwards 540. He quick-released the canvas straps and dropped the last fifteen feet through empty space. He cracked a three-point hero land on the cabin roof.
Boone yanked the ripcord. The brake-chute bloomed. Boone jerked back and up. He flipped a backwards 540. He quick-released the canvas straps and dropped the last fifteen feet through empty space. He cracked a three-point hero land on the cabin roof.


<Center>***</center>
<Center>***</Center>


“What the hell was that?”
“What the hell was that?”


Schweiner froze.
Kurzweil froze.

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