Outside of Deus Ex Machina II

Egon Portner looked down upon the splotch of color he knew to be his target. From the altitude he was currently at, it was hard to make it out with the naked eye, but his headset made that problem non-existent. The real problem now was timing. Stepping to the edge of the cargo ship's bay door, he judged the situation. If the documents he had managed to acquire were correct, he'd no doubt only have a nearly non-existent window in which to make his entrance to the enemy stronghold. But still, it was the only way. Taking a single controlled breath, he jumped.

The wind tore at him as he fell, the force of it mind-numbingly strong. However, as much as it tried, the wind could not stop gravity's hold on him. The Deus Ex was coming closer and closer with each nano-second. Now would be the moment of truth in which he would know if his plan had truly bypassed their detection methods. After five seconds of passing into firing range, the lack of counter-measures proved his theory true. Now for the tricky part.

Activating his vid-screen's zoom system, he found his target:a small external vent designed to funnel air out of the ship. Holding up a gas-powered harpoon gun, he fired, piercing the metal hull a foot from his target. With his free hand, he grabbed the cord attached to the hydraulic spear and began to pull himself towards the grated opening. It proved no easy task. The hurricane-strength winds buffeted him hard, trying to dislodge this tiny annoyance in their wake. However, he would not be deterred.

As soon as he reached the vent, he braced himself against bulkhead, trying his best to keep himself as steady as the position would allow. Using his feet and off hand to balance himself, he drew his sidearm and took aim at the four bolts keeping the covering in place. With four shots, the great fell, tumbling to the ocean below. His path now clear, Egon made his way into the bowels of this mechanical beast.

-----> Deus Ex Machina II Air Ducts

Enter From: Limbo

David had been picked up by a private jet not far from the shoreline of Britain. The plane flew in the clouds. A light went on as the plane flew directly over the Machina. David has was already prepared and jumped out. He flew down to the Machina. He saw explosions and stray gunfire coming from the hangar. I guess that takes care of physical security.
His Bio-Monitor located an air duct on the side of the Machina. This was his target. David went into a dive so he could get there faster. He did a flip and landed on the Machina with a slight thud as he began to slide down the side. He stretched his right hand out and caught the handle of the air duct. He pulled himself up. The hatch was already open. No doubt from his associate. David climbed in and began his crawl. He hoped to find Egon somewhere in the ducts still.

Exit to: Air Ducts

The Huntress gave a sigh of contentment, feeling the fresh breeze gently caress her face and weave through her hair. Despite the love of war, Rip did appreciate some occasional peace and quiet away from the rapid gunfire and the loudness of trigger-happy men. Upon a floating fortress, some quiet time was not something a Millenium soldier engaged in quite often. Since a decent threat towards Millenium was a rarity nowadays, Rip found herself coming to the zeppelin's roof almost everyday to read, lose herself in her thoughts and sing as loud as she pleased. But today she found enough serenity humming to herself while turning the pages of a book she had not read yet and seeking safety from the sun's irritating rays beneath her parasol. Thanks to the blazes of past battles there was very little legible literature available upon the zeppelin so she had to make do with authors and genres she usually paid no attention to.

[It's been long enough since Walter left his last thread, and I don't want to go through the pointless tediousness of posting how he got back to base. Let's just say he joined up with a number of Millenium agents who were left behind after the attack on London, and stole a plane with them].

The roof. Walter had never gotten the appeal of standing on an uneven surface miles off the ground while the wind fluttered and buffeted against one's self, threatening to send one tumbling over the edge to a very messy demise hundreds of feet below; yet the agents of Millenium seemed to thrive on it. He supposed that it must get tiresome, cooped up in the iron bowels of the zeppelin day and night, but that didn't excuse risking one's life.

Despite all this, he found himself climbing the spiral stairs up to the roof the moment he arrived, having first sought out the major and been confronted with mixed rumours: Herr Major is sick. Herr Major has gone on a secret mission. Herr Major is dead. In honesty, the butler doubted whether any of the rank-and-file troopers knew what the Major was doing at any given time; so he decided to ask someone higher up.

The Captain was in Bavaria, acquiring guns or some such with a partner - what was her name? Frieda? Ursula? Walter didn't care. What he did care about was his next mission, and whether it would bring him close to his old rival. To find out, he needed the Major. To find the Major, he needed a member of The Werewolves.

The boy stepped out cautiously onto the roof of the flying ironclad monster, hands folded deep into his waistcoat pockets. A cigarette burned in his mouth. From this angle, all he could see was the wide surface of the opera-enthusiast's parasol, but he was barely willing to step any closer. He knew this girl; she had been one of the unconscious Nazis he'd encountered during his mission in Warsaw - a day he remembered every detail of. Walter had heard that Rip van Winkle quaked at the mention of the No Life King, and he wondered whether he should prepare for insanity.

He coughed, in case she wasn't already aware of his presence.

"Vhat ist it you vant, Valter?" the Huntress responded, not taking her eyes off her book or turning to face him. Rip doubted the butler boy was here just to make small talk, he didn't seem the type to dillydally with idle conversation.

(sorry it's not much :/)

Trapping his hair against his scalp with a palm, preventing the harsh wind from blowing it this way and that, Walter took a few more steps forwards.
"I want to know what we're supposed to be doing," he said flatly, lacking the energy to get annoyed at Rip's bluntness. In fact, he appreciated it; if they kept small-talk to a minimum, he could learn about the Major and then report to the Doktor, to ask for a checkup. Dok had refused to redo the operation which had turned him into a FREAK, claiming that replacing his faulty chip would likely kill him; but Walter had been experiencing painful twinges whenever he exerted himself above human levels, and if Dok couldn't give him something for it, then he would be no good in a fight against Alucard.
"Where is Montana Max?" Walter demanded, his tone a little more firm. "I didn't give up my country and my humanity to sit around in a balloon."

Rip would have thrown the little brat off the zeppelin for daring to use such a tone, but she found herself wondering the exact same thing the past few days. She chewed her lip briefly as she thought. It was true, she had not received any news or updates from the Major in quite some time. She scanned her memories for any vital information that might be help find an answer to the Fuhrer's whereabouts.

Nothing.

"Zhat ist something I haf been vondering for a vhile as vell" Rip answered, closing her book and pocketing it as she got back up on her feet to face the butler."I don't know vhere zhe Major is or vhat he ist planning" she said simply, giving a shrug. She wondered whether she would have given him different response if she did actually know something. Despite turning to Millenium, Rip never fully trusted where the butler boy's true loyalties lied. The Huntress suddenly became suspicious. "Vhy? Vhat ist it you vant from zhe Major?" she questioned, slowly rotating the handle of her parasol over her shoulder.

Walter's only expression was of boyish amusement, raising a hand and waggling his fingers dramatically. "I want to slice him into little pieces," he goaded the huntress, smirking before turning serious. "Don't be a fool - I want the same as you: to know what my next mission is. I can't be a butler without an employer, and you can't be a huntress without the master of the hunt. If the Major wants to take a holiday while we sit and stew, that's all well and good: but I won't wait any longer." The boy slipped a hand into his waistcoat pocket and produced a paper roll, tossing it to Rip. "I sent this letter among the men. All the volunteers signed their names on the back."

(I'll send the contents of the letter via PM.)

Rip snatched the paper out if the air and read it "Not many names here" she commented, glancing at the other side. "So just vhat ist it you vant to do" she asked, waving the sheet questioningly "I do not vish to earn myself a place in zhe Major's bad book...Zorin hast already taken up enough of it's pages" She had to admit that she was looking forward to a chance to stretch her lanky legs a bit, but a chance of some fun was not worth risking the Major's trust in her.

Eyes twitching, the butler stuffed his hands deep inside his waistcoat pockets, though his instincts were telling him to fold them neatly behind his back - as he had done for more than sixty years. But no-one was giving him orders here, and he could afford to appreciate the small comforts: for a while, at least.
"Good and bad are the same thing in the Major's eyes; excess of either can lead to war." Walter cast his red stare sideways into the gusting abyss, and tried not to shudder. "Whatever our, ah, glorious leader is doing, I am certain he won't mind us giving the men some exercise." He paused, a hand slipping up to the dome of his head, stopping his hair from rustling in the wind. "What I want to do isn't particularly taxing. Millenium is running low on firearms, no? I say we obtain more. The Captain's excursion alone can't hope to refill the stocks.

[Ugh, another abrupt >>EXIT>> due to a better idea.]

-EXIT-