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Heather14

Heather O'Leary


Date: August 4, 2004

Title: Just Another Day in Paradise

Players: Heather O'Leary, Elizabeth Maxwell, Martin Grace, Michael Donovan, Ham Tyler, and Denton Webster

Location: Maxwell Ranch

Synopsis: Just an average day in the LA Resistance. Heather is busy fixing her plane and getting it replaced, Martin is fixing food, Ham is being grumpy, Mike (and everyone else) is worried about Sean… And Elizabeth is just being around in the way, talking too much, and thinking up elaborate plans and schemes that leave no love lost between her and Ham. :D


LOG BEGINS



Heather O'Leary shakes her head, "You made up for it…" She winks, and than leans against the Engine. She sighs softly and asks, "How is Sean? I mean, I know you said he is converted, but we expected that… Do we have someone making sure he doesn't try to escape?"

Elizabeth Maxwell sighs and nods. "They're guarding him at the house, I'm assuming. Best guess, he's still recovering from that laser blast he took, so might not be in any condition to try for a while." Her expression sours slightly. "And hopefully he got a good look at just how much he's 'cared about', by seeing her pull the trigger on him."

Heather O'Leary shrugs slightly, and closes her eyes, "I wish you guys had called me in earlier… I might have been able to distract her…"

Elizabeth Maxwell sighs and shakes her head. "I don't know what happened with that. They didn't call you until I'd already opened fire. I expected to be the first one to shoot, but not by as long a time as it was. I was a little too occupied with trying to appear unarmed and helpless, probably would have been shot at instantly if I'd used a radio. Have to ask Mike and Martin about it.""

Heather O'Leary shakes her head, "I think Mike feels bad enough about what happened, that I don't need to call any attention to that… at least, not for awhile…." She shrugs, and changes the subject, "So, what are the plans for tonight? I am thinking I might take a ride later, go up and swim in that creek we camped by… further down though, where it is warmer…"

Elizabeth Maxwell hmms and smiles a little. "Well, I don't have any plans for tonight, maybe I could join you. Haven't been out swimming in quite a while…"

Heather O'Leary smiles, "If you want to… I'm always open to seeing you in as little clothes as you want to wear."

Elizabeth Maxwell laughs a little and kisses softly, scritching your hair idly. "Yes, I've noticed." she smiles and glances around. "at least no one came in while we were having a little fun."

Heather O'Leary nods, "I would have been… shall we say, showing red from head to toe…." She sighs, "I know most of them know what we do, but… having a witness? Not my idea of a turn on… although, I know some that feel that way.

Elizabeth Maxwell laughs just a little and shakes her head. "Yeah, I remember you being red from head to toe nearly when I had to peel that uniform off you, when you got heat stroke." She kisses gently again. "And I agree completely. What we do isn't for them to be watching. We're not here to be their entertainment."

Heather O'Leary nods, "Remind me to check the AC Vents in our bedroom for Cameras…. Wouldn't put it past Tyler to try something like that…. Future Blackmail material, or something…"

Elizabeth Maxwell winces a little bit at the thought. "you really think he'd try it? I mean… he knows damned well that either of us would tar and feather him if he were caught…"

Heather O'Leary shrugs, "Ham? No, he wouldn't. If he wanted blackmail material, all he has to do is listen through the walls… But someone else? I don't know… Maybe…"

Elizabeth Maxwell rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "I guess I'd like to think that we don't have to worry about people trying to gather blackmail material in our own camp… there's too much else to be planning and doing, for that…" Heather O'Leary nods, "Maybe it is not blackmail material… I just sometimes get the feeling of being watched, in our room…." She sighs, "I don't know Liz…"

Elizabeth Maxwell hmms and snuggles a little bit, shaking her head. "I don't know… I guess I've never really thought about it to notice… Now that you've mentioned it, I'll try to take more notice of it. There are a lot of questions, if we are. Mostly an extenuation of the main two, who and why."

Heather O'Leary shrugs, "Who? Does it matter? Could be anyone… Why? Lots of reasons… the first that comes to mind has already been mentioned… a second one? They like to watch… they want to… well, to be crude, get off watching us."

Elizabeth Maxwell grumbles just a little at the thought. "I'll search the room top to bottom then… If worse comes to worse, and you're willing to feel watched one more time…" she winces a little. "Depending on what's being done, and how, either we can find whatever is being used to watch, while in our room, or if it only seems to be when we're making out, well…" she hmms a little bit. "In theory, if we could find and use another spot, and make it sound like the bedroom, we could record the sound, and play it to try and provoke whoever into trying to do it again, while we wait and watch."

Heather O'Leary shrugs, "I don't know that we ARE being watched or filmed, Liz… Just a feeling I get sometimes. It is randomly timed… It could be in my head though."

Elizabeth Maxwell hmms, and snuggles a little more, nodding. "I don't know… I'd really like to hope not… The very idea is more than a little bit unnerving. Not only for the fact that someone would be willing to do it, but what it brings to mind, as well."

Heather O'Leary shrugs again, "If I find them, after I beat the snot out of them, I'll give them a subscription to Playboy TV or something…" She smiles, slyly, "Not everyone has access to the loveliest gal on the ranch, like I do."

Elizabeth Maxwell smiles and snuggles tightly. "If its going on, we'll find it. don't worry." She blushes at the compliment, and scritches your hair.

Heather O'Leary smiles, "Oh, I won't worry too much…" He tummy rumbles, "I think we should go see about lunch, before I get back to work patching that engine."

Elizabeth Maxwell smiles and snuggles a little bit. "Okay. That sounds like a good idea, yeah. Food is always good."

Heather O'Leary links her arm in yours, and heads inside, "Not sure what sounds good… any leftovers from the last couple of dinners? Or I could cook something, I suppose…"

Heather O'Leary moves east.

You go to Maxwell Ranch Front Yard.

Heather O'Leary and Liz are arm-linked, as they head from the new barn to the House. Heather pauses as she sees Martin, she smiles, "Hey Martin, we were going to go find something to eat… you hungry?"

Elizabeth Maxwell smiles and looks up at Martin happily. "Hi there."

Martin Grace has an apple his mouth, when he is hailed, and looks up, turns around. "Ah uh eeeh," he says, around the fruit.

Martin Grace watches Heather dash to the house, and looks at Liz, apple still in-mouth. "ee oohaay?"

Elizabeth Maxwell hmms and shrugs a little bit. "I think so… maybe nature called." she laughs a little then.

Martin Grace finishes taking a bite of the apple. Chews. Swallows. "Anyway, I can eat. How's the Donovans?"

Elizabeth Maxwell shrugs. "The smaller one is still recovering, haven't seen the bigger one to find out."

Martin Grace says, "How deep are their hooks in him this time around?"

Elizabeth Maxwell sighs and shakes her head. "Deep enough. It's not good."

Martin Grace nods. "It'll take more than taking him to Hooters for some chicken wings and a lapdance, I suppose." He nods his head to the side to indicate the house. "You want me to whip up some dinner while we wait for Heather to finish her business?"

Elizabeth Maxwell ehems. "He's too young for that, and a lot more." She hmms a little. "Well, I'm not sure what she wants to eat, she was planning on getting something quick and going back into the barn, to work on the Harrier."

Martin Grace says, "Oh, well, hrm. Let me think…" He starts to pace for the house, taking another bite of the apple. "I suppose I could just grill up some bratwurst and heat up some sauerkraut."

Elizabeth Maxwell erms a little bit at that, biting her lip softly. "The brats sound good…" She shivers slightly then. "Sauerkraut… hmm. I saw a recipe for that stuff once, mentioned something about removing mold and scum from the covering, or such, while it was progressing from being edible, to the condition it ends up in."

Martin Grace says, "Yeah, but if you knew how they make sausages, you wouldn't want *any* of it."

Elizabeth Maxwell laughs a little and shrugs. "Which is why they inspect the places that make them. Or, not trusting that, why it's best to find a recipe, and make your own. Because then you /know/ what went into it."

Martin Grace says, "*You're* lecturing *me* on cooking?" He raises an eyebrow. "That's like me telling you about cute." He gestures. "Come on."

Elizabeth Maxwell laughs a little and shrugs. "All right. Just felt a need to refute that one comment."

Martin Grace moves to the Foyer .

Elizabeth Maxwell follows along quietly, glancing around the entryway as she steps in.

Martin Grace strokes his chin. "Actually, we've got those cold cuts… I could … Hrm … Maybe."

Elizabeth Maxwell blinks a little bit. "Hmm?"

Martin Grace says, "You got any problems with mayo or mustard?"

Elizabeth Maxwell shakes her head. "Not in the least. What you thinking of fixing?"

Martin Grace says, "Well, remember, I was raised in the Keys. The most common food there is Caribbean, and you can get Cuban sandwiches. I haven't had a Cuban sandwich in a couple of years. That big loaf of French bread was going a bit stale, but that's fine, since you have to nuke it to soften it anyway. We have mustard, mayo, and butter. We have the ham and Swiss. We have the leftover pork that I made for lunch yesterday, and that can be sliced thin enough." A pause. "A Cuban sandwich is basically a grilled cheese sandwich with two kinds of pork, some mustard and some mayo, and sometimes some pickle slices, see. It's really good."

Elizabeth Maxwell hmms a little and smiles. "That sounds petty good, actually. The bread going stale isn't entirely good… how long has it been out?"

Martin Grace says, "Couple days, but like I said, you can use stale bread for Cuban sandwiches because you nuke it a bit to make it soft, then toast it like a grilled cheese. So it's okay."

Elizabeth Maxwell hmms and nods. "Yeah, suppose so. Sounds good." She smiles a little more then.

(into the kitchen)

Martin Grace grabs the loaf of bread and cuts it into three pieces, then pops all three into the microwave. But doesn't yet turn it on. He makes busy gathering the other ingredients. "I'm assuming Heather's going to want one?"

Elizabeth Maxwell smiles a little at that, and shrugs a little. "I suppose so, I'm not entirely sure. I suppose unless she doesn't like some of the things in it, she'll want one… She was getting hungry…"

Martin Grace says, "I'll make one anyway, then. If you want to just grab some canned green beans and prepare them in the microwave after I soften the bread, feel free. Something simple tonight, might as well."

Elizabeth Maxwell hmms a little, and checks the freezer first. "Maybe we have frozen, those are usually better than canned. The canning process seems to remove all the flavor from beans…"

Martin Grace nods. "I agree. I just didn't think we had any." He finally zaps the bread after assembling the cold cuts. Then starts to butter up a pan. Elizabeth Maxwell smiles, and checks the freezer. "If we don't have any up her, I can check downstairs, we might there."

Martin Grace says, "Fair enough." He applies butter and mustard and mayo to the softened bread, layers in the cold cuts. "You want pickles on yours?"

Elizabeth Maxwell hmms a little and shakes her head. "No thanks…." she hmms, and pulls a package from deep within the freezer. "Here they are…" She smiles a little bit, checking the package, and moving to get a bowl to fix it in.

Martin Grace adds pickles to only one of the three sandwiches, then, and then places all three on the buttered griddlepan, placing another pan on top to press them down. "Alright. Zap the greenies."

Elizabeth Maxwell gives a slight glance to Martin at that way of phrasing it, and laughs softly, before checking the bowl, putting a little water in, and setting it into the microwave and putting the time in. "Right…"

Heather O'Leary arrives from Dining Room.

Martin Grace checks on the griddle every once and awhile.

Elizabeth Maxwell laughs a little more, glancing at Martin, and keeps watching the beans in the microwave.

Heather O'Leary steps into the Kitchen, having finished a shower, which does take awhile. Growling stomach sounds might just be heard from her. She nods to Martin and Liz, as she heads for the Fridge. Sandwich, stomach craves food.

Martin Grace is grilling, in fact, three sandwiches on a makeshift griddle-pan. "Have a seat. Food's almost ready."

Heather O'Leary arches an eyebrow, "What kind of food?" She sniffs the air to detect.

Elizabeth Maxwell smiles as Heather comes in, wrapping an arm around her and hugging. "Hi there…"

Martin Grace says, "I'm making Cuban sandwiches. I hope you don't have problems with mustard or mayo." He looks back over to the two women. "Elizabeth didn't think you would."

Heather O'Leary shrugs, "Beyond the fattening qualities they have… what is in a Cuban? I was just going to have some of that lean Chicken on white, with a smidge of cheese….."

Martin Grace says, "A Cuban sandwich is sliced pork, ham, and swiss, grilled like a grilled cheese sandwich with some mustard and mayo." He pushes away from the counter. "I got pickle slices on one. I can take 'em or leave 'em, so if you like pickles, you can have it, otherwise I'll eat it."

Elizabeth Maxwell smiles and rubs her hands a little, watching the sandwiches, and the microwave, by turns.

Heather O'Leary shakes her head slightly, "I don't think it is a good idea… Honestly. I haven't had a good workout in a few days, and it is too hot to do a lot of running… Probably should keep the caloric intake down…" She is not blessed with a high metabolism, or so she obviously thinks, "I probably should stick to a salad for lunch, but I have a craving for meat."

Martin Grace says, "Bah. I slave over a hot stove and this is the thanks I get?" A shrug, to show he doesn't really mean it. "I'll save the last sandwich for Donovan, then. How's he doing?"

Elizabeth Maxwell rubs Heather's stomach a little, jokingly. "Well, if you're needing a good workout, you should just tell me. I'll give you a good workout after we eat."

Heather O'Leary shrugs, opening the Fridge, and squirming as Liz rubs her tummy, whispering, "Stop… that tickles." She glances at martin, "I honestly can't say… I think he's spent most of the day watching Sean sleep…" She pulls out a covered bowl and a slice of lowfat American cheese (Kinda takes the fun out of cheese, don't it?). She sets them down on the counter and sighs softly, "I don't know that I blame him though… If I was in his shoes, I'd be pretty shaken up too…" She sighs softly and mutters, "I should have gotten the tunnel blown earlier… instead of the damned Skyfighter…"

Martin Grace flips the sandwiches, recovers them.

Elizabeth Maxwell laughs as she's whispered to, and openly tickles just a little bit, to tease. "C'mon, you look fine… You should have a hot meal…" She snuggles gently. "And I promise I'll help you work all the calories off…"

Martin Grace discreetly pays attention only to the sandwiches. Only the sandwiches. The sandwiches. Ommmmm.

Heather O'Leary squirms a bit more and shrugs slightly. "For dinner, maybe…" She glances out the window, looking towards the New Barn, "And I have to get that Harrier up north tonight… our swim will have to be delayed. Got off the phone with the Base I planned to take it to… If I get it there tonight, they'll trade me for another one, no questions asked." She shrugs, "So I figure I'll finish the Engine patch after I eat, and get going. Should be back in time for dinner." She reaches for the bread, figuring with her luck lately, it'll be all moldy. She glances at Martin, and says, "I'm sorry you went through the trouble of making me a sandwich, and I hate to appear ungrateful…." She sighs, and says softly, "I just… I don't know Martin, I just don't feel right after last night. I couldn't even get Mike over my shoulder to get him on the Harrier, without a lot of difficulty."

Martin Grace says, "It's a tense situation, Heather. What put him down?"

Elizabeth Maxwell sighs at Heather and shakes her head. "There was nothing you could have done. By the time they called you in to shoot ANYTHING, he was already shot. Stop blaming yourself for it. If anyone's at fault, it's me, for not shielding him better. And for not realizing that they might take their first shot at him. And as for Mike… well, no more seconds for him, if he's getting that damned heavy. Must not be working him hard enough."

Martin Grace turns back to the sandwiches for a moment or two, then back around. "You're both wrong, though." And he is quiet, but there is an air of finality to his voice. "Donovan got shot because he didn't follow the plan. I don't know what the hell hit him — I presume a Visitor laser weapon — but I do know that he was the one who made it clear to *me* that the bugging out with Sean and Elizabeth was the priority, not scrambling up that hill. Heather, I'm sorry, I know that sounds harsh since he bought you the time to get clear. But … he called for a game plan, and then he threw it aside to take a few extra shots at Diana. It's not right, and while I'm as much his friend as anyone around here, I can't keep my mouth shut and let you two blame yourselves."

Heather O'Leary shrugs slightly, and finishes her sandwich, and maybe her luck isn't all bad, the breads not moldy. She quickly piles like 5 or 6 smallish pieces of chicken on the bread, and covers them with the slice of cheese. She looks back at Liz, smiling, "See, no seconds for Mike, and for me? Well, I'll stick to this for tonight." She glances at Martin, "It was a Stun rifle…" She pauses, and shrugs, "Actually Martin, I was covering you guys. Donovan and Liz came up over the hill… I only stuck around to make sure they got clear…"

Elizabeth Maxwell sighs. "I wouldn't have gone up the hill, except that Donovan started up, and you were getting fired on for trying to cover him. I was trying to draw fire away from you, and see if I couldn't knock out at least one of the ones shooting."

Martin Grace says, "I think I've made my point." He puts sandwiches on plates. "Here, Elizabeth." He slides a plate towards her. "I'll tuck the third one away."

Elizabeth Maxwell smiles and nods to Martin, taking her sandwich. "thanks…" she smiles, getting the beans out of the microwave and getting some butter on them. "And as for sticking with that, well, if you think you were too weak to pick Mike up, you probably need to eat more, and get beefed up a little better."

Heather O'Leary sighs softly, "Look, we all know that a plan goes out the window, as soon as Contact with the opposing force happens… And Martin, lay off Mike. His son was shot before his eyes…" She shakes her head, "Sorry… I'm taking my frustration out on you both… I'll just be quiet and eat, neither of you deserve to have me snapping at you." She shakes her head at Liz, slightly.

Martin Grace starts to respond back, but Heather's immediate apology stops him. He looks angry, though.

Elizabeth Maxwell sighs just a little at Heather, a sad expression crossing her face before she looks away to eat. She eats a lot more slowly now, though.

Heather O'Leary glances around. She is 2 for 2 tonight, made Martin mad, and Liz sad. She sighs, and says softly, "I'll go eat in the barn… Before I patch the engine…" She picks up her sandwich, and starts walking to the barn.

Elizabeth Maxwell sighs and shakes her head. "Stay here, Heather. Please? I'll come help with the fighter, and keep you company on the way north…"

Martin Grace puts his own sandwich on a plate, and starts eating it.

Heather O'Leary shrugs, "Why? Martin is mad, you are unhappy… Before I showed, neither of you were other than happy…" She forces a smile, "And since I think you two deserve happiness, rather than uncomfortable silence, I'll remove myself from the equation."

Elizabeth Maxwell sighs and shakes her head. "I won't feel any better if you leave, knowing you're beating yourself up for last night. I'll just be right out to the fighter and trying to talk to you again. Going to fly off to the dust zone without me, to get away, if I go out there?"

Heather O'Leary smirks, "I can't… not until I finish that patch on the Engine."

Martin Grace again shifts into discreet mode. This part of things doesn't concern him. He rises to fetch a bear, then sits with it, using it to wash down another bite of sandwich.

Elizabeth Maxwell sighs, finishing her sandwich in a couple of bites, and slipping over to Heather, wrapping her arm around. "I just want you to feel better…"

Michael Donovan arrives from Dining Room.

Heather O'Leary sighs and takes a bite of her sandwich, knowing that she should give up. She looks at Martin, and sighs, closing her eyes briefly, "Martin…. I… I'm sorry. I've said some things I shouldn't have… That I wouldn't have, if I did not blame myself for last night… you didn't deserve it, and likely, I would agree with you, most of the time. Mike did break….." She pauses, just as Mike walks in the room. Ooops.

Martin Grace is sitting at the counter, eating what looks to be a grilled sandwich of some kind, while the ladies talk.

Elizabeth Maxwell finishes the last of her beans, to empty her plate, sighing softly at Heather. "and that's the problem. You shouldn't be blaming yourself. It wasn't your fault."

Michael Donovan smiles a bit grimly at Heather, "You're allowed to finish that sentence. I admit it. I screwed up. Big. And if you didn't get my butt out of the fire, I'd be somewhere around Diana's large intestine right about now."

Martin Grace says, "One way or another."

Heather O'Leary sighs, "Mike…." She shakes her head, Mike knows what happened, and harping on it anymore, won't help anyone. She takes another bite of her sandwich, and shrugs, "How is Sean?"

Elizabeth Maxwell glances over to Mike at that question as well, holding back anything she'd have to say.

Michael Donovan takes a deep breath at that, feeling as much to blame for that as he does everything else. "He's stable. Julie tells me he should regain consciousness any time now…"

Martin Grace takes another bite of sandwich. "How long will the rehabilitation take once he wakes up?"

Heather O'Leary glances at Liz, and arches an eyebrow, wondering if now is the time to bring up the little problem?

Elizabeth Maxwell glances over at Heather and shrugs a little bit, raising her eyebrows in response, then glancing over to Donovan again. Heather O'Leary shakes her head, let Donovan realize on his own that Sean is converted, she isn't going to have a fight with him, like Ham almost did, or Julie for that matter… "Mike, as of tonight, you go on a Diet. You get Stunned again, and I have to carry you… " She just shakes her head, "I almost had to leave you…."

Michael Donovan manages something resembling a smirk. "I'll try to be less massive the next time I'm knocked unconscious."

Heather O'Leary nods, "I'll make sure of that… Tie you to the back of the truck, and make you jog for awhile…"

Elizabeth Maxwell rolls her eyes and laughs slightly at Heather.

Ham Tyler arrives from Dining Room.

Ham Tyler steps into the kitchen, looking for a beer. He moves to the Fridge, almost ignoring everyone around. He opens the Refrigerator, and pulls out a Bud. He glances around, opening it and taking a swallow. "So, you screwed up, eh Gooder?"

Michael Donovan scowls a bit at Ham, who is perhaps the only person save for the one that shot him that he feels like taking abuse from right about now. "Bitch got lucky," he retorts curtly.

Martin Grace drains his beer, using it to wash down most of the rest of his Cuban sandwich. "Hey, Tyler, next time you come in, be sure to tell us that the Visitors have returned, too. We didn't know that yet, either." Heather O'Leary smiles, "Well, I shot the bitch, if that makes anyone feel better. She ain't dead, I don't think, but she should be in pain for a good while."

Ham Tyler arches an eyebrow at Martin, than nods to Heather, "Well Gooder, what are we going to do with the boy now?" Sure, Ham knows he shouldn't say this, but he pretty much has to, since it is his job to be cold and calculating, "You can bet he's been converted, we can't keep him here at the Ranch."

Elizabeth Maxwell glances around at everyone and just shakes he head, sighing a little. Then she nods at Ham. "He's been converted, for certain. I checked him already." she glances over to Heather quickly.

Martin Grace says, "I could rent a temporary apartment in town, I guess. I got *some* money tucked away. Enough for a fleabag somewhere while we figure out what to do."

Heather O'Leary nods slightly, but will talk to Mike alone, or just with Liz around about some possible plans. She says softly to Liz, "I'm going to go fix that Engine… You stay here, OK?" She leans over and whispers something to her.

You sense Heather O'Leary leans over, "Let him know about the *possible* plan, eh?"

Michael Donovan, remarkably enough, doesn't see the implication as reason enough to take a swing at Tyler. Apparently, being told something more than three times seems to make the stubborn ex-journalist realize that it just might be true. "The problem is how do we keep him from running? You can bet that there's a command rattling around in his brain that'll make him run right back to her…"

Heather O'Leary senses "Elizabeth Maxwell leans over a little bit towards Heather. "Yeah, that's about what I was hoping you'd do.""

Ham Tyler nods, "Well, I say we get him up North… Someplace far away from them. Chicago? Alaska?"

You sense Heather O'Leary shakes her head slightly, "*You Tell* him. Likely better from You than me. She turns and heads towards the door, flipping Ham the bird for being a jerk, first.

Heather O'Leary turns and heads towards the door, flipping Ham the bird for being a jerk, first.

Heather O'Leary moves to the Dining Room .

Michael Donovan leans back against the wall casually, "Which begs the question who would we send him with? I'm not sending him there by himself…"

Martin Grace says, "I could go, I suppose."

Elizabeth Maxwell sighs a little bit. "Heather and I have been talking about taking him up to New York. There might be a chance to unconvert him."

Michael Donovan looks over to Elizabeth, perhaps the vaguest glimmer of hope on his features. "I'm listening," he tells her tentatively.

Elizabeth Maxwell glances over to Mike. "The only way to unconvert someone involves running them through a chamber again. White Christmas up in New York has a captured ship with a chamber, and they know the procedure for how to do it. We were going to be talking to them about it…"

Martin Grace nods. Puts his dish in the sink, runs some water over it, then grabs himself another beer from the fridge. Pops it open. Takes a sip. "You gonna take that Harrier clear to the Big Apple? Or somehow get an uncooperative kid all the way across the country on private transport?"

Ham Tyler arches an eyebrow, than nods, "Like they Did with the Vice President? Have to get Presidential Approval for that, I think…." He looks at Martin, "We could go in a Squad Ship."

Michael Donovan looks slightly pensive at the idea, as it sounds the slightest bit on the 'experimental' side. "That sounds like the only logical choice then…"

Elizabeth Maxwell glances over to Ham and smiles just a little bit. "There's a way to get approval, actually. And we figured out how to get it, with a little witch hunting along the side."

Ham Tyler says to Mike, whom he does, actually, like, "Gooder, if the President trusted the Fifth Column enough to undergo the De-Conversion Process himself, when even they told him he wasn't converted, than I'd say it is a good bet…" He pauses, and smirks, "Damn, no one here should know about that…"

Michael Donovan chuckles lightly at Ham's gaffe. "Hey," he replies, "no one here's gonna talk about it."

<ResRadio> Heather O'Leary says, "Alright Folks, I'm firing up the Harrier… If there are any explosions, I apologize ahead of time…"

Elizabeth Maxwell shrugs. "People here already know about it. At least Heather did. Just a matter of getting the approval and getting it done. After that, well… probably safest if he stays with a relative up in the dust zone anyway, to keep them from another attempt at grabbing him."

Martin Grace says, "Who are we going to tell, anyway?"

Ham Tyler looks at Mike, to see his reaction to Elizabeth's idea.

<ResRadio> Elizabeth Maxwell says, "Kindly make sure it won't explode before you start it?"

No Explosion is heard, but the sound of the Harrier lifting off, is.

<ResRadio> Heather O'Leary says, "Was no way to be sure of that, with the ugly patches. I'll be back in a while folks. Don't get lost without me."

Ham Tyler frowns slightly, "Where is she going now?"

<ResRadio> Elizabeth Maxwell says, "Yeah. Congratulations, you found a way to get away from me for now. Talk to you when you get back."

Martin Grace shrugs. "Something about dropping off dry cleaning, I think she said." He rises, with beer, moving towards the dining room.

<ResRadio> Ham Tyler mutters, "Trouble in Paradise, I see? Good, no loud noises disturbing my sleep anymore."

Elizabeth Maxwell glances over at Martin. "If it became common knowledge, the demand would go out for everyone who got thrown through the chamber to be put through it. It would cause a large scale mess." She glances over to Tyler then. "The jet was severely damaged, she's getting it repaired, supposedly she found a base willing to swap it for a new one. So she's going to get it."

Michael Donovan frowns somewhat, "Well, unfortunately," he tells Elizabeth, "My relatives are in short supply… and Margie's family made it a point to cut off all ties to me after the divorce… Hmmm, wonder if ol' Arthur's still around. He got along with Sean okay…"

Ham Tyler says softly, "Margie's dead, Gooder…."

Martin Grace moves to the Dining Room .

Ham Tyler looks thoughtful, "Yeah, you stepfather is still alive. Moved to Chicago, when Richland was shut down…."

Ham Tyler has been getting information all day from his CIA contacts, but is not going to divulge his sources, unless asked. He likes looking smarter than normal.

From Dining Room - Ranch House, Martin Grace pulls a deck of cards out from a cabinet, and within a few moments, can be heard shuffling, occasionally taking a sip of beer.

Elizabeth Maxwell glances over to Ham and Mike and nods a little bit. "If he's competent to take care of Sean, then, it'd be a good idea to send him there." <> Ham Tyler shrugs slightly, than says, "So, what is the plans for the Consulate?"

Michael Donovan smirks somewhat at that, "You'd want a 'screw-up' like me planning something that big?"

Ham Tyler shakes his head slightly, "Just because you let your emotions fuck you over last night, that doesn't mean it will always happen. Besides, I don't think we are doing it. Our luck has been good lately, but I doubt it would remain that way."

Michael Donovan furrows his brow in thought, "If there was a way to get the prisoners clear, it wouldn't be a problem. That's the only thing that's making this tricky…"

Elizabeth Maxwell scratches her head and nods a little bit. "With their security tightened the way it evidently is, judging by the mess getting the squad vehicle…"

Ham Tyler nods, "I'll let the WLF know that we won't be doing it. Mind you, don't be surprised if they target some Cruise Missiles at it…"

Elizabeth Maxwell sighs a little and nods. "If we could catch one of them outside the Consulate with a datapad or something, and acted before they realized the caught one was missing, it might be possible to break into the computer system and fake some orders for them to be moved somewhere, over the ground with a light guard. If they bought it. We'd have to hit them along their moving route to get the people, then, but…"

Ham Tyler shakes his head, "Not a good idea, Elizabeth. Getting too cute… Got to Keep it Simple…"

Michael Donovan grimaced slightly, "As much as I hate to say it, Elizabeth, Ham's got a point…"

Elizabeth Maxwell shrugs a little bit. "I'm still thinking, that sounded like one of the most likely candidates for a plan that didn't involve someone being sent into there to get killed trying to break them out."

<ResRadio> Heather O'Leary says, "Banshee to Base, am imbound with a New Harrier. ETA, 10 Minutes."

Ham Tyler shrugs, "I don't think the WLF was smart in asking us to do it, Elizabeth. There is no way we could do it, without killing Civilians. While I may seem like I am cold enough to do it, I don't want the loss of Human life others think I can live with on my mind, anymore than any of the rest of you do."

Michael Donovan pulls himself upright, "I just don't like the WLF's 'scorched earth' policy if we don't come up with a better plan than the one they've got…"

<ResRadio> Elizabeth Maxwell says, "Good to hear, welcome back."

Denton Webster has arrived.

Elizabeth Maxwell glances over between the two and nods a little bit. "And I'm sure I know what they'll say. That if it isn't possible to get them out without a disaster, that destroying it with them still inside would cause less loss of life than a botched rescue attempt."

Ham Tyler nods, "Likely they would…" He pauses, and glances over at Denton, who seems familiar, "Hey, don't I know you? And how the hell did you get here?"

<ResRadio> Heather O'Leary says, "Setting down now…" Outside, the sounds of a Harrier Landing is rather obvious.

Denton Webster steps in to the kitchen, two large camo duffels held in both hands at his sides. He drops them on the floor upon entering and gives a salute to the group of people in general. He looks to Ham and nods when he is questioned. "You may know me, sir. I participated in the years before the re-invasion. Elias sent me, from the Club." He states clearly and loudly. "I want back in."

<ResRadio> Elizabeth Maxwell says, "Welcome back."

Ham Tyler nods slightly, and glances to Mike, "Looks like Denton, doesn't it? I thought he was killed up on the last day of fighting?"

Heather O'Leary has arrived.

Michael Donovan eyes Denton carefully. "There were a lot of people we thought didn't make it that day. Still, he wouldn't have gotten past Elias if there was any question about whether or not he was on the up and up…"

Elizabeth Maxwell looks over Denton for just a moment, then smiles. "Hi there, anyway." Her tone gets slightly sarcastic then. "Welcome back to our lovely little war zone."

Ham Tyler nods, "Speaking of which, the next time Elias sends someone up here, we have to make sure he dials the phone first. I mean, Denton here," He mutters to Denton, "No offense." And back to the group, "Could have been anyone, and we might have shot him."

Denton Webster quirks a brow and shakes his head. "Killed? No, sir. I just went my own way. Laid low. I had enough fighting." He states, and grins widely. "You can't kill a Marine, let alone a Gunnery Sergeant." He pauses and looks to Elizabeth, and nods to her. "Thank you, ma'am. And I don't think there is anything lovely about war."

Heather O'Leary steps back into the Kitchen, after a flight north. She arches an eyebrow as Ham speaks, and Liz too for that matter. She glances at Denton, "Hello…."

Denton Webster turns around when Heather steps in, and he salutes her. "Ma'am." He looks her over and grins at the flight suit. "That your bird out there? I've only had a couple hundred hours logged in one myself. I was a weapons tester, but they let me have my fun in the skies sometimes."

Heather O'Leary returns the salute, out of habit, "We don't hold much with formalities around here…" She pauses, "And yeah, the Harrier, she is mine… Sort of. I think it is mine because I was the only one qualified to fly it, back when we stole it."

Elizabeth Maxwell laughs a little and nods. "Guess we'll have to find another one somewhere, if we have another pilot." She grins a little at Heather, slipping over to her happily.

Ham Tyler frowns slightly, "Let us see, two current Marines, one A… Ex-Marine…, and Talos was or still is a SEAL…." He smiles, "Gooder, did you ever think you'd see the day when you were GLAD to see Military folks around?"

Michael Donovan chuckles softly at that, "Well, as soon as I found out that your charming attitude wasn't standard military issue, Ham, I found I could handle having more of them around."

Denton Webster grins slightly at Heather and nods to her. "It's a good piece of machine, the Harrier." He says, and then looks to Elizabeth. "That'd be a dream come true, I admit, though I'm better at shootin' than I am at flyin'."

Ham Tyler rolls his eyes, "How many times do I have to tell ya, Gooder. I was never Military. CI…. The Company all the way, my friend. I gave the Military Folks their marching orders." He turns to Elizabeth, "The one raid on LAX was too cute to work a second time. Try buying one, next time."

Heather O'Leary chuckles, and seems in a much better mood now, than before, "Well Denton, was it? If you can shoot, and work well at Night, you'll get along fine here. That is the main action around here. Night Ground Assault."

Elizabeth Maxwell rolls her eyes. "You think I'd use the same plan twice? Certainly not at the same facility. I'm not quite /that/ stupid, regardless of what you think."

Denton Webster scratches his cheek for a moment and ponders before nodding to Heather. "I'll need to practice up on some stealth tactics then." He murmers, mostly to himself. "What do you people have for a computer network around here? My skills also happen to extend to the more malicious side of that world." He says, grinning widely.

Ham Tyler motions to Mike, "If he can screw up and do that, so can you, Lil'Girl." Ham is in fine form tonight… Next he'll be insulting all women, and showing that he really is only slightly more civilized than the Neanderthal.

Heather O'Leary motions to Liz, "Liz'Beth is the Computer Expert around here. I just know how to fire off some Email, and find Fake Naked Pictures of Visitor High Command."

Michael Donovan simply glares at Ham, not dignifying the remark with a reply (or even the knuckle sandwich that it deserves).

Ham Tyler is used to Donovan's glares, and this one doesn't phase him either.

Elizabeth Maxwell hmphs softly at Tyler and rolls her eyes, glancing over to Heather and smiling a little at her. "anyway, that'd be in the long term at best."

Denton Webster nods slightly and looks to Elizabeth, "Good, good. You'll have to show me what you have for machines around here then. I might be able to help some with that. I know a few tricks." He murmurs.

Elizabeth Maxwell nods a little bit to Denton. "Right. I'll do that a little later on."

Ham Tyler looks around, and shakes his head, these folks have no sense of humor, or at least, not as twisted as Ham's. "Denton, you still good with the SAW?"

Denton Webster looks to Ham and smirks, "I'm a weapons specialist. Yeah, I'm good enough with the SAW. I've gotten kind of hooked on one of those Visitor Laser Rifles though, I'll admit." He says, shaking his head. "They pack quite a mean bit of power." He turns and nods to Elizabeth, smiling. "Great. Thank you."

Michael Donovan chuckles softly at that, apparently having something vaguely resembling a sense of humor. "They do have a bit of a kick to them. Personally, I've been trying to diversify a little, though."

Heather O'Leary shrugs, "Give me a MP-5, or the M-16, if I have to knock someone out from a distance of more than 5 feet."

Ham Tyler is rather fond of his Uzi, but, "Good… Between you and Martin Grace, you might remember him, you might not, we are set for the Heavy Weapons experts."

Denton Webster nods at Ham and smiles. "Well, I'm good for just about everything. I'm trained in every fire arm aspect known to man. And alien. I did a lot of work in the special weapons research section of the Corps."

Elizabeth Maxwell glances around and smiles, not really saying anything.

Heather O'Leary likes getting her hands dirty, or green with Visitor Blood. She shrugs, "Add Talos to the list Ham, he's got a SAW somewhere, and he likes Explosives."

Ham Tyler nods, "Well, good seeing you, Webster… I need to head into town and have a small chat with Mr. Taylor…"

Michael Donovan grins broadly, "Looks like we're loaded for bear now… or at least very, very big lizard."

Heather O'Leary nods, "We could likely handle an attack even here… but hopefully the Dust will keep them away…" She pauses, and frowns, "Mike… I hate to bring this up, but did someone look Sean over to see if he was packing a Tracking Device?"

Elizabeth Maxwell glances over to Heather and uh-ohs very softly.

Michael Donovan nods firmly at that, "That much has been taken care of. As long as we can take care of Sean, things should remain secure here for the time being…"

Heather O'Leary nods, "I think we had better start being more careful… we need to find a place we can use as a safehouse…. Not in the City though…"

Denton Webster isn't sure what they are talking about, so he doesn't speak up at first. He looks around the kitchen for a moment before finally looking to them. "Where will I be staying at?" He asks, quirking a brow.

Heather O'Leary glances at Denton, and looks thoughtful, "Well, the new Barn has some rooms still unused, or the Basement has a couple open now that the New Barn has been built."

Denton Webster nods at Heather and grins. "Just stick me wherever. I've had some pretty bad places in the Corps, so I don't mind where I stay."

Michael Donovan straightens up a bit and looks out of the room somewhat intently. "If you all will forgive me, I've got to go check in on Sean. See if he's up and around yet."

Heather O'Leary nods, "Well, for a fellow Marine, I think you should get the one with better access to a Bathroom. Set up out in the New Barn." She glances at Mike, and nods, "Go on…"

Elizabeth Maxwell nods at Mike. "See you later then."

Denton Webster looks to Mike and nods to him before looking back to Heather and grinning. "Sounds wonderful to me, ma'am."

Heather O'Leary shakes her head, "Just Heather… Donovan and Tyler hate all the Sirs and Ma'am Mickey Mouse."

Elizabeth Maxwell nods a little bit. "Keeps people more humble anyway. Otherwise some people might start getting an overinflated opinion of themselves from it." She grins a little.

Denton Webster smiles faintly and nods. "Yes, ma'a….Heather. Sorry, it's a hard habit to break when you have been doing it for so long." He says, chuckling.

Heather O'Leary arches an eyebrow, "I'll have you know, I have the smallest ego of any pilot, a MARINE Pilot at that, that I have met." She hums the opening line to an *old* Country song… and than sings it softly, as a joke, "Oh Lord, it's hard to be Humble, when your perfect in every way." She winks at Liz, than smiles at Denton, "Well, wait til you meet Major Briggs…" She rolls her eyes, "He will make you realize that the Sergeants have it right when they claim they run the Marines."

Elizabeth Maxwell laughs at Heather and rolls her eyes. "I didn't say that you would, Heather. Though you probably are the one who'd have the most people calling them "ma'am" around here." She pokes Heather in the side a bit.

Denton Webster lifts a brow at Heather's words and barks out a laugh. "I already realize it! We Sergeants are the real backbone of the Corp." He says, grinning hugely.

Heather O'Leary squirms away from the poke, "Not my fault I outrank just about every Military, or Ex-Military person out here on the coast." She nods to Denton, "I learned that when it requires one of them to fix my plane… Maybe that is why I learned from my Crew Chief what real work is, and started helping."

Elizabeth Maxwell laughs a little and nods. "Have to be nice to the one who maintains the plane, might have problems otherwise."

Denton Webster nods and looks serious at that. "Damn right. Anyone who maintains the gear or fixes things deserves respect. You could be in a world of hurt if you have faulty equipment."

Heather O'Leary nods, "I never followed the Philosophy of most Officers. I took care of my Ground Crew. Even taught most of them in the Sims, if they wanted." She shrugs, "Pissed off a few Generals doing that, but hell, I figure if they know how to fix it, they should get a chance to fly em." She shrugs again, "Besides, they taught me to fix the planes, in a pinch, and even showed me how to use some Heavier Weapons, like the M-16. I was never good at that in Boot Camp, or the Academy."

Elizabeth Maxwell smiles a little at Heather, laughing at that. "Mm-hmm. Good thing you've gotten better, then…"

Denton Webster ponders this and nods. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. The Officers don't always take care of their men." He murmurs, and then smiles. "The M-16 is not my favorite weapon, but it has its uses. I've been attached to one of those Visitor laser rifles for some time now. I hate to admit it, but they actually made something good. Nice, reliable, deadly piece of equipment." He says, and then leans back against a wall with a sigh. "So when is the next scheduled attack gonna take place?"

Heather O'Leary looks thoughtful, "We try to raid them at least once a week… Or as targets of opportunity arise."

Elizabeth Maxwell nods a little bit and smiles. "Any opportunity to cause them problems is viable. Just gotta watch and see where they expose their hind ends a little too much. Same drill as always. Just that now we have nice happy dust zones where they can't come bother us."

Denton Webster nods slightly. "Sounds good. I hope to help out in the next attack then." He murmurs, and smiles. "Looks to me like the Resistance is in full blast once again."

Heather O'Leary chuckles, "Well, we do try and make them regret living… I even got a few rounds in on Diana last night. Not sure if she is dead, or not, but we can hope…"

Heather O'Leary tries to picture what a Vulcan cannon round through a Visitor body feels like, and shudders a bit.

Elizabeth Maxwell hmms a little and nods. "Depending on what kind of armoring that thing she was wearing has. Doesn't look like it has much, but depending on how much is built into her current fake skin…"

Denton Webster grins and nods. "Good, good…" He murmurs. "So what does everyone do around here when they aren't shootin' Visitors?"

Heather O'Leary shrugs, "Pretty much what Marines do when they aren't storming a beach. Relax, unwind, have fun, oh, and lots of training."

Elizabeth Maxwell laughs and nods. "Training, then otherwise hanging around getting on each others nerves, mostly. Wonder who's keeping score on all the conflicts of personality around here… I haven't been doing it…"

Denton Webster nods at this and smiles. "I imagine i'll be training most of the time, myself. Like to keep fit and ready to go."

Heather O'Leary chuckles softly, "Oh? Like to run? I need a running partner. I normally do about 5 miles in the morning, than go to the Training Room, and work on Hand to Hand for a couple hours…"

Elizabeth Maxwell pokes Heather again and laughs. "Yeah, and wake me up for it… I might start running with you, since I'm already awake anyway from you piling out of the bed." She grins a little bit

Denton Webster quirks a brow and nods. "I run every morning myself. Five miles sounds fine. And maybe you can teach me a thing or two about hand to hand…that's my weakest point when it comes to fighting." He says, and shrugs. "I was too busy shooting, I guess."

Heather O'Leary grins, "A Girl has to keep in fighting trim, Liz'Beth." She laughs at the Hand to Hand mention, "I am starting to feel like a sensai…." She grins, "But I'd be happy to. You hit a Visitor just right, and the sound of their death scream almost sends tingles up your spine…" She pauses, and looks around sheepishly, knowing *that* sounded bloodthirsty.

Elizabeth Maxwell laughs a little bit at Heather and raises her eyebrows. "uh… huh." She grins a little more. "Yeah, lots of people wanting hand to hand training from you, yes? He does, I do…" She scratches her head slightly.

Denton Webster smirks and looks to Elizabeth. "Well, most people don't mind if someone that attractive is beating you up." He says, grinning. "Though yeah, I really do need the training. I hope I never have to get that close to a Visitor though. I'd rather just shoot one."

Heather O'Leary nods, "Shooting them is considerably more favorable…"

Elizabeth Maxwell nods a little bit. "Yeah. Dangerous getting in close to them. Even if they look unarmed. They aren't."

Elizabeth Maxwell glances over and smiles, wrapping her arms around. "So… alone at last." She hugs gently. "Mike was pretty happy to hear that we could get Sean fixed. We should be doing it soon… Mike mentioned that he might wake up 'any time now', the less time he has to try escaping while still converted, the better."


LOG ENDS

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