Operation 002: 'Night Angler' (Pt I)
The personnel carrier (now disguised as a delivery truck) made its way down the winding roads from the mountains; All of the plainclothes agents inside were busy playing cards around a small table as they waited to reach their destination.
"God, do you have to smoke that in here?" Polly complained as Clef lit up a cigarette, lifting the side tarp to blow out the smoke.
"Maybe I'd feel bad," Clef responded snarkily. "If you'd quit burping in my fahking face everytime you place a bet."
"What are you complaining for? Some guys would pay for a pretty lady to get nasty like that."
"I'm sure they would." Dack remarked, re-shuffling the cards with a cigar in his mouth. "Birds of a feather, right? Haiman, hand me another beer, will ya?"
Polly shot Dack a glare as he took the beer from Haiman's hand and popped off the cap, handing the cards to Haiman.
"You shuffle 'em. Show us your sleight of hand!"
Haiman glowed with a youthful brightness that made Clef's heartache. He could clearly see Dack was demeaning him to the position of a beer boy, taking advantage of Haiman's naivete and kind nature. Unfortunately, it was partly Haiman's fault- he was a desperate people-pleaser from day one, and so relegated himself to this position.
Nonetheless, Clef was impressed as Haiman effortlessly shuffled the cards between his hands, doing fancy tricks to show off his dextrous skills. After about 7 seconds, it became uninteresting again.
Sighing, Clef took a peek outside of the canvas flap that covered the back of the truck. They were still on the side roads, mainly to avoid being spotted by any traffic heading towards or away from this site. Alpha Six informed them that they would be operating in an actual town this time, albeit a very remote and small lakeside town with a population of only a few hundred.
At least this time, they'd get to speak with someone other than each other- Something Clef found most appealing. Taking another drag from his cigarette, he geared his thoughts towards the upcoming assignment; It was habitual for him to do so before things began to set in motion.
He first considered what obstacles lay ahead for his team to deal with- Primarily, it would be maintaining their cover and not having their operation found out by any unsuspecting locals. Since this was their first assignment in an area with a populace (albeit sparse and spread out), this elevated the difficulty of their tasks; It made for many more wild variables that could easily compromise the secrecy of their work-
"Oh, what am I kidding?" Clef suddenly muttered aloud, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was delving far too much into this for what the mission was probably going to be like, which was every last mission they've been on. It wasn't worth the mental effort- Not at least until he saw what they were working with.
Hours later, near the evening, the truck had finally arrived at the quaint lakeside town of Talawoki- A respectable gathering of large and small metal buildings and cabins with hardly any federal standing because of its unincorporated township. Which essentially meant that everything here was on the local authority with little chance for state or federal intervention.
Absolutely perfect for conducting shady affairs.
"Where are we parking?" Polly asked Clef, who was peering through the canvas flap to get a look at his surroundings. He momentarily lowered the flap to glance at Polly.
"Alpha Six found us a decent cabin rented out near the east side of Talawoki, at the edge of the, uh, lake. Should be perfect for conducting our affairs away from the rest of the town."
Clef looked around the truck, gauging the expressions of his subordinates. He took a breath, before relaying orders.
"Once we get to our cabin, we're going to unload our supplies and get set up in our rooms. After we've settled down relatively, I want Vale to set up the surveillance equipment at the edges of the lake; Haiman will work on setting up the communications terminal inside the cabin- you can pick any room that isn't being used."
He pointed at Polly and Dack.
"You two are the most charismatic, so I want you both to work on finding out about the missing persons cases, as well as any rumors or sightings of any strange occurrences. Luckily, for this mission, I was given a generous budget, so I'm going to give you both a small sum of money to pay for beers or bribes, whatever comes of it."
Taking the bills out of his wallet, he split them between the two, who looked at the money with mischievous grins on their faces.
"Don't smile like that, you fahkin' hyenas!" He chastised them. "You beh'er bloody well spend it for the mission- we're not on fahkin' vacation."
Dack and Polly nodded, and Clef felt that would be the end of that- Despite their criminal past, he knew Dack and Polly were both reliable soldiers that put the assignment before their personal desires. He then looked at Griz, pointing at him.
"Griz, you and I are dressing up as, uh... 'lakewater quality inspectors' and cordoning off a small clearing near where we'll be lodged- it's an ideal place for observation and experimentation since it's assumed that we're dealing with something in the lake."
Griz nodded, and Clef sat back in his seat, satisfied with his deliberation.
"Well, then. All that's left is to wait."
Their truck pulled up next to the two-story cabin rented out for them, and immediately disembarked, moving inside to unload their equipment and gear. An hour passed, and soon each MTF squad member was off accomplishing their own individual tasks.
Meanwhile, Dack and Polly were strolling down the main road of the town, gazing around at the nightlife of this cozy little village. Christmas lights were hung from every building, shining brightly in the wintry night.
A single bar sat near the docks, and was lively with a decent portion of the citizenry gathered inside, merrymaking and imploring one another for more alcohol. Dack grimaced in dismay, feeling a strong aversion to the heavy country aura he was sensing from afar- mostly given away by the faint sound of country music emanating from the bar itself.
"This is not my crowd." Dack muttered reluctantly, as Polly merely chuckled.
"I don't think country people are anyone's crowd except their own. Still, where did all your earlier gusto go? A few drinks and we'll be one of their own."
Dack sighed in defeat, trudging towards the bar.
"Fuck. Fine. But if I get called a raghead, you're paying for my tab."
"You assume the worst of people, Dack. What's more, they're Canadian! They're supposed to be nice… I think."