Operation Varsity

[TheShammySocialist]

[b]Classified - Off the Coast of Oregon[/b]

The men and women who slowly approached shore underwater in the silent insertion vehicles wore nothing in terms of identifying features, or carried anything that would associate them with their nation of birth. Unlike their usual loadout, they were carrying little in the way of weaponry, the three vehicles that carried them bore no nationality markings, nor any identifying features on their parts. They didn't exist, they were the men and women of Section 17, the shady Section of an already elusive Group 62, the Cajun Federation's premier Tier-1 Special Operations Force. They didn't pay much attention to geopolitics, or goings on in the world, Section 17 was around for one thing, and one thing only, serving the orders of the Cajun Federation's top military staff and the political leadership.

The three silent insertion vehicles had left the CFS [i]Humpback[/i] and CFS [i]Spurdog[/i] about about thirty minutes earlier, they had a long trip ahead of them towards their insertion point along the dangerous rocky coastline of Oregon. The submarines had quietly settled about ten nautical miles offshore, having run at full silence/GQ Stations for twenty-four hours, slowly skirting the bottom of the ocean. The advanced designs of their hulls allowed them to maneuver silently and close to possibly hostile shores, and they were utilizing their features to full effect for this mission. The next few hours would see whether their mission would fail or not, as they maneuvered silently, slowly, towards shore.

[TheShammySocialist]

[b]Classified - The Coast of Oregon[/b]

Nadine Lafontaine had entered the country of Novus Nicae by aircraft only a few days ago, an intelligence officer from the Cajun Intelligence Agency, she had entered with the intent to vacation in Novus Nicae for two weeks. She had been waived through customs with no issue, and had been able to arrange for a rental vehicle while in the country. While the diminutive and mousy woman had raised eyebrows at the rental agency when she requested a large camper van for her travels, they had approved the rental, and she had been following a rehearsed pattern of travel since. She was not armed with a sidearm, nor did she carry any special gadgets, she was here as an in-country contact that would facilitate the operation's travels, what she [i]was[/i] armed with, was money and transportation, and she was a field agent with experience, she could travel without questions being asked, and her appearance alone invoked little question.

Lafontaine had pulled her van off National Route 101 near Bandon, Oregon, and parked it amongst some deserted dunes near a golf course, it was after hours, and no one was around here. The wind was softly blowing, and she was sitting in the driver's seat of the van, looking out towards the coastline. Scrub and short trees blocked her view down to the coastline, this was the pre-arranged site for the rendezvous. She looked at her watch, and wrapped the sweater she wore around herself tightly against the cool breeze that blew in through the open window. Her ears had become attuned to the nighttime sounds around her, she had been here for well over an hour and a half, and it felt like an eternity as her eyes swept the darkened landscape. There was little to no moon, and very little light to be found, she had enjoyed it at first, but the wait had slowly become an agonizing expanse of time.

Suddenly, there was a rustle in the scrub nearby, it was very faint, but her ears picked it up, and she swung her head in time towards the sound. Her head met cold metal, as she felt the barrel of a gun gently press against her temple.

"Operative word," hissed a voice, in the night.

"Longshot."

"Confirmed," responded the voice, before the barrel was pulled away. Her eyes looked at the dark form next to her, who turned, presumably to address his team, using hand signals. Suddenly the rear compartment door opened, and a group of operatives, dressed completely in black, entered into the rear compartment, which was tinted. They were well armed, carrying mostly submachineguns, all of them silenced, some had carbines with silencers, others carried pistols with suppressors. They carried various packs on their backs, of varying weight and composition, and they just nodded at her as they climbed into the camper van and took seats. She counted eleven operatives who climbed into the back, as for the owner of the voice who had gone through the rendezvous confirmation process, he had climbed into the front seat.

"Sorry about the wait, currents were giving us more problems then expected," nodded the team leader, who had pulled off his balaclava to reveal sandy brown hair. He was holstering a Px4 Storm with a suppressor, and he nodded at her.

"Patience is something I have a lot of," responded Lafontaine, as she glanced back at the team now seated in the camper van, they had quickly shut the door, and bathed the entire vehicle in darkness.

"We're ashore for seventy two hours, I am sure you have been briefed on the itinerary of our trip?" asked the team leader.

"Crystal clear briefing," replied Lafontaine, as she adjusted her seat and blinked her eyes after the lights had shut off.

"Everything has to be spot on, Miss Lafontaine," added the team leader, looking at her seriously.

"And everything [i]will[/i] be spot on," she retorted, looking back at him with the same air of business.

"Good," he nodded, as she turned the van over, and put it in gear, then smoothly turned out of the abandoned lot, and headed for the interior of Oregon.

(OOC: Both spy rolls were successful, further RP to come in the next day or so.)