Sunday, April 21, 2013
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Trooper Mags "Spice" O'DwyerDay: E-Day+3
Time: 1912 CST / 0112 GMT
The edges of the masking tape were worn and peeling away from the metal locker door. Tight print declared this her space, the name "Spice" displayed in black permanent marker. Trooper Mags O'Dwyer ran her finger over the end of the tape strip pressing it back into the black door as she had done so many times before. As she pulled her finger away, the tape coiled back as it always did. She shook her head, tugged up the towel around herself with one hand, and opened the locker with the other.
Her black combat uniform hung neatly inside, along with the flack vest, and other components. She reached up to the top shelf to snag a clean sports bra and panties. She had hung up her towel on the corner of the door and started to slide into her underwear when a male voice called over the locker wall.
"Hey, Spice, you know if this is another drill?" That would be Colt.
"I swear it's not," another voice called back. Mags grinned.
"Probie's right," she answered, loud enough to be heard over the lockers. "I saw the req sheets on my way through from the gym. We're shipping out to somewhere."
"I don't know," Colt called back again.
“Team Able shipped out, for real, a couple of hours ago,” Mags noted, her voice still raised. “Some big-wig Watcher found a problem with one of the light houses and needed an escort out to see what it was. I'm pretty that we're past the point of drills."
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Time: 1940 CST/ 0140 GMT
Broadcast Location: CLASSIFIED
Received Location: Bastion Combat Air Transport (CAT) Green-3, somewhere over southern Wisconsin