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

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{{a|myth|}}The eighteen-wheeler rumbled on through the desert, flanked by a convoy of COO gunships. <br>
{{a|myth|}}
Schweiner set his jaw, his gimlet eye fixed on the horizon. The rig was handling nicely. ''Sweet ride'', he thought. Seventy tons of state-of-the-art super-[[modernist]] management technology under the hood, you’d expect that. This baby practically drove herself. Schweiner was calm — tense; on alert — but calm. He blinked to bring up the [[MIS]] radar feed in his HUD. The MIS feed swept a sixty-five degree field in front of the rig, left and right.  
The eighteen-wheeler rumbled on through the desert, flanked by a pair of COO gunships.  


The RAG indicators read green across the board. Expense management: optimal — just a couple of minor blips, 300 yards out, at 40 degrees from true. <br>“You seein’ these, Bugsy?”  
Senior Operations Officer Heinrich Schweiner set his jaw, his gimlet eye fixed on the horizon. The rig was handling ''real'' nice. ''Sweet ride'', he thought. Seventy tons of state-of-the-art super-[[modernist|modern]] [[Middle-management|mano-tech]] under the hood, you’d expect that. This baby practically drove herself. Schweiner was calm — tense; on alert — but calm. He blinked to bring up the [[MIS]] radar feed in his HUD. The MIS feed swept a sixty-five degree field in front of the rig, left and right.
 
The RAG indicators read green across the board. Expense management: optimal — just a couple of minor blips, 300 yards out, at 40 degrees from true.  
 
“You seein’ these, Bugsy?”  


“On the MIS? Yaaah, Schweiner, I’m seeing them,” Bugsy was Brooklyn-tough. Schweiner dug his earthy attitude. “Docs jocks, I think. All cool.”<br>Schweiner screwed in the scope and brought up a video feed. Sure enough: a couple of [[negotiator]]s ambling distractedly around a watering hole. Little threat  at this distance, but Schweiner could tell it narked Bugsy all the same.  
“On the MIS? Yaaah, Schweiner, I’m seeing them,” Bugsy was Brooklyn-tough. Schweiner dug his earthy attitude. “Docs jocks, I think. All cool.”<br>Schweiner screwed in the scope and brought up a video feed. Sure enough: a couple of [[negotiator]]s ambling distractedly around a watering hole. Little threat  at this distance, but Schweiner could tell it narked Bugsy all the same.  
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Schweiner shrugged. “Nah, we’re all good, Bugsy.”  
Schweiner shrugged. “Nah, we’re all good, Bugsy.”  


But Bugsy had a wild streak. Most of the uniform bulls in legal ops, did. This was no reluctant performance of duty for Walter N. Buggs, [[MBA|M.B.A.]] (Insead). This was ''job satisfaction''. “Ahh, hang it. Why the hell not?”  
But Bugsy had a wild streak. Most of the uniform bulls in legal ops, did. This was no reluctant performance of duty for Authorised Operating Officer Walter N. Buggs, [[MBA|M.B.A.]] (Insead). This was ''job satisfaction''. “Ahh, hang it. Why the hell not?”  


Bugsy’s gunship let rip — it lit up the GMLSA guy like a candle. Bugsy whooped. “SOX attest ''that'' my litte paisan! Ha-ha!”  
Bugsy’s gunship let rip — it lit up the GMLSA guy like a candle. Bugsy whooped. “SOX attest ''that'' my litte paisan! Ha-ha!”  
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The rig kicked up a desert plume.  
The rig kicked up a desert plume.  


Fifteen klicks down the line, the peaceable lawyers’ settlement was oblivious: the hounds of hell descended.<br>
Fifteen klicks down the line, the peaceable settlement at Lawyertown was oblivious while upon it, the hounds of hell descended.


<nowiki>***</nowiki>
<center>***</center>


High on the mountain promontory, Seven klicks to the left and 4,000m above of the oncoming rig, Opco Boone observed the rising plume one the desert floor. He didn’t need his telegraphic scope. These suckers were coming on, clear as day. ''Brazen''.  
High on the mountain promontory, Seven klicks to the left and 4,000m above of the oncoming rig, Opco Boone observed the rising plume on the desert floor. He didn’t need his telegraphic scope to watch these clowns. They were coming on, clear as day. ''Brazen''. The MIS signature lit up the sky.


Boone spoke into his wrist-comm. “All right, [[Chip]], I’m going in.”
Boone spoke into his wrist-comm. “All right, [[Chip]], I’m going in.”


Static crackled. The [[GC]] came on the line. His voice was nasal, uptight: more so even than usual. “Now listen here, Boone. No funny stuff, this time. I mean it. We have to play this by the book. Do you hear me?”
Static crackled. The [[GC]] came on the line. His voice was nasal, uptight: more even than usual. “Now listen here, Boone. No funny stuff, this time. I mean it. We have to play this by the book. Do you hear me?”


Boone looked up from the wristcomm. He regarded the great expanse, yawning away beneath him to the far horizon, where a curlicue of smoke rose from Lawyertown, bleached pink in the dying sunset. That beautiful settlement. These were his kin. His people. His ''life''. Boone drank it in: the beauty. The tranquil traditions. The ancient beauty. The august institutions. The whole gamut of ''precedent''. Ineffable. Imponderable
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 rose from Lawyertown, bleached pink in the dying sunset. That beautiful settlement. These were his kin. His people. His ''life''. Boone drank it in: the beauty. The tranquil traditions. The ancient beauty. The august institutions. The whole gamut of ''precedent''. Ineffable. Imponderable


And there, like some crazed Taliban, the convey drilled across the badlands, racing out to destroy it all — down to every last goddamn ''brick''.
And there, like some crazed Taliban, the convoy drilled relentlessly across the badlands, racing out to destroy it all — down to every last goddamn ''brick''. His ''home''.


I said, I’m going in.
“I said, I’m going in.”


Boone? Boone! Do you read me?  
“Boone? Boone! Do you read me?”


Boone looked at his wrist comm.  
Boone looked at his wrist comm.  


Chip?
“Yeah, [[Chip]]?”
 
Oh thank Christ, Boone. I thought we’d lost you. Now listen to me —


Chip, you’re breaking up.  
“Oh! Thank Christ, Boone. I thought we’d lost you. Now, listen —”


Don’t do this to me Boo—
“Chip, you’re breaking up.”


Not copy that, sir. I am going in.
“What?” At that moment, the GC grokked it.  


BOONE!
“Oh, no. No. ''No''. Don’t do this to me Boo—”


This is Opco Boone, signing out. I am switching to silent running. Comms will go dark
“I do not copy that, sir. You are breaking up. I repeat, I am going in.”


GODDAMN IT B—
“BOONE!”


“This is Staff Solicitor Opco Boone, signing out. I am switching to silent running. Comms will now go dark. I will report  again at 2100 hours”


“GODDAMN IT B—”


YesBoone stood on the cliff edge. As he snapped it down, the sun caught his visor for an instant. If Schweiner caught the sparkle ten klicks away it didn't register.
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.
Boone edged to the cliff. A brisk thermal whistled up the couloir.


Boone flipped off the safety catch and ''dived''.
Boone flipped off the safety catch on his wingsuit and ''dived''.
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