Scenario Author: Allan Goodall
Write-up Author: Allan Goodall
Run Date: April 29, 2006
Game System: Chaosium's Basic RolePlaying (BRP)
Keeper: Allan Goodall
Characters: Gabriel Dodge, codename MALCOLM (Jason Gallagher); Joshua Frost, codename MORGAN (Jimmy Pope); Carson Kovac, codename MAYA (Alana Goodall)
Note: Hurricane Katrina timeline items were taken from the Hurricane Katrina Timeline article on the Shreveport Times web site (no longer available) and from Salon's Katrina Timeline article.
"Greasy jungle metropolis noir
Easy tangles the easiest so far"
- The Tragically Hip, "Greasy Jungle" (1994)
One after another, the Delta Green agents appeared in agent MORGAN's garage in Atlanta, Georgia. They stepped into the house. They were immediately chilled as their sweat-soaked clothes were blasted by air conditioning. The agents slumped on MORGAN's furniture, basking in the cool air of his home.
They discussed their next steps. They believed that the focal point of the Majestic-12 activities in New Orleans was the Louisiana Superdome. They surmised that "Dr. Bierman" was actually Dr. Gregory Musgrave and that "Dr. Barker" was Dr. Cynthia Jorgansen. Ending their activities in the Superdome would stop their horrible experiments.
Where the group differed was in their approach to ending the activities. MORGAN was all for storming the Section 305 facility and killing anyone that got in their way. MALCOLM pointed out that there could be innocents in the area who thought they were volunteering for a legitimate and worthy cause. MORGAN was willing to accept some "collateral damage" in order to stop a greater evil. MAYA pointed out that the doctors may not be unguarded.
After much debate, and some refereeing by MAYA, the agents decided to take a more subtle approach. They had to be sure that section 305 was being used for nefarious purposes. The biggest problem for the inhabitants of New Orleans was food and clean water. The agents would take food laced with heavy duty tranquilizers to the folks in the volunteer area. Once Bierman and his people had eaten and fallen asleep, the agents should be able to sneak into the volunteer area.
The food had to look reasonably inconspicuous, like it was recently brought in and/or prepared on site. They decided on sandwiches. This meant a trip to the nearest Wal-Mart. They also needed tranquilizers. MORGAN said he could get the tranquilizers from the Centers for Disease Control laboratory in Atlanta.
They drove from MORGAN's house to the CDC. All three agents entered the building, MORGAN using his authentic identification, and MALCOLM and MAYA using their fake IDs. MORGAN took them to a drug dispensary. He logged onto the system, did some "creative bookkeeping", and soon had a number of bottles of tranquilizers and sedatives in his care. MAYA and MALCOLM helped MORGAN stuff the bottles into his manpurse. They left the CDC campus and drove to Wal-Mart.
Within half an hour of arriving at the store they had a shopping cart filled with bottled water, sandwich fixings, Sterlite containers, and a crate of oranges. They had so much stuff that they realized that they had no way of carrying it all on their small rubber boat. They would have to gate back to Memorial Medical Center or MAYA's house and from there trek to the Superdome. MALCOLM suggested that they pick up another inflatable boat, preferably a smaller one. They found the perfect boat in the sporting goods section. They picked up some rope to go with it and headed for the check out.
After purchasing their supplies, MORGAN drove the agents back to his house. They prepared the sandwiches in his kitchen. MORGAN tainted the sandwiches with large doses of tranquilizers; he really wasn't worried about the repercussions of overdosing someone. He was more concerned with making sure the tranquilizers were not detected.
Once the agents were finished making the sandwiches they wrapped them in wax paper, and sealed them in the Sterlite container. They carried the sandwiches, oranges, and deflated boat to MORGAN's garage. MORGAN put on a dry suit as he was worried about water borne diseases. MAYA and MALCOLM decided to go for comfort; they wore shorts and t-shirts.
One at a time they intoned "Minisub" and stepped through the dimensional rift.
A stifling heat and the smell of decay greeted the agents as they gated into the hospital's closet. The room was pitch black. MAYA turned on a flashlight. They moved items around to cover the wall containing the gate, stacked their sandwiches, oranges and water in a corner, and then stepped out of the closet.
The hospital was mostly dark. There were some lights on, but the hospital was preserving the fuel in its backup generators. MAYA and MORGAN stayed back with the food while MALCOLM went to retrieve their inflatable boat. It was where they had stashed it near the entrance. He found it easily in the dim light. No one had tried totake it. Perhaps few were willing to leave the hospital without an escort. While making sandwiches in Atlanta, MALCOLM had heard on the television that a store across from the hospital had been looted at gun point.
They agents hurriedly left the building so as not to attract attention with their food. The night was hot and humid. The sun had set less than an hour before. Stars blanketed the sky. It had been centuries since so many stars had been visible in New Orleans for such a long time. MALCOLM, the astronomer, thought that it might be a long time before New Orleans had to worry about light pollution.
MALCOLM inflated the new boat while the others dragged the old boat to the edge of the water. Once the smaller boat was inflated, they tied it to the old boat. MORGAN and MAYA filled the smaller boat with their food supplies. The agents climbed into the larger boat. MALCOLM started the engine, and then maneuvered the boat up Napoleon Avenue. MAYA illuminated the street signs with a flashlight as they passed them. They came to the wide canal that was once South Claiborne Avenue. MALCOLM made a wide sweeping right turn. They headed back to the Superdome.
The boat puttered along in the darkness. The city was surprisingly quiet. There were distant shouts and MAYA thought she heard a gunshot. Gone were the usual city noises: car engines, air conditioning units, and even the buzzing of street lights. The most common sound was the lapping of water against structures ill designed for the flood.
MALCOLM saw something in the water. At first he thought it was a log. Then it dived. It could have been an alligator. It was likely that at least some gators had been dragged into the city by the storm surge. He told MORGAN and MAYA what he saw. They looked behind the boat and saw something floating in their wake. MORGAN suggested that MALCOLM turn the boat around. MALCOLM nodded in the gloom, and did as MORGAN suggested.
MORGAN leaned over the side of the boat as they got close to the object. The object dived under water again. MORGAN shone a flashlight over the centre of the ripples.
Something crashed out of the water, something with teeth and fangs and a long snout. MORGAN cried out and jumped back into the boat. Teeth and fangs slashed in the erratic light of the agents' flashlights. The inflatable boat's side popped. Air escaped in a bubbling frenzy as the boat started to collapse.
The thing came around again. This time MAYA and MORGAN had their guns ready. They fired at the thing at close range. It dropped back into the water. All MAYA remembered seeing was a snout and teeth.
MALCOLM grabbed the motor and jumped for the small boat. He mounted it on the boat's stern. MAYA reeled in the boat while MORGAN guarded them, his gun in one hand, his flashlight in the other, and both pointing in the same direction. The larger boat was sinking, fast.
MAYA jumped into the boat. There was no room for the three agents and the food. Something had to go. She threw out the case of oranges.
MORGAN jumped into the small boat just as he saw something approaching. "Get us out of here!" he cried. MAYA cut the small boat free of the sinking larger boat. MALCOLM gunned the engine.
The boat shot forward as something slashed at them. It missed the boat by inches. MAYA and MORGAN shone their flashlights on the rubber boat's wreckage as they zoomed away, but all they saw were the large ripples of something powerful moving in the water. Whatever the thing was, it did not try to follow them.
The agents were quiet as the boat headed along South Claiborne Avenue. MAYA broke the silence by pointing out that they were nearing the Superdome. By this point the water level had dropped to a couple of feet in depth. Still, they were reluctant to jump into the water. It wasn't until the bottom of the boat was rubbing against the asphalt of the Superdome parking lot that they climbed out. They picked up the boat and hurried to the Superdome entrance.
A mob milled about the doorway, preferring to sit or stand outdoors over the unlivable conditions within the stadium. The crowd stared at the agents as they carried the boat up to the doors. A young black boy smiled and held the door open for them. MAYA thanked him as they marched inside.
MORGAN hid his pistol in his manpurse, while MALCOLM and MAYA hid their guns in the waist bands of their shorts, with their shirts pulled out to hide the weapons. MALCOLM found a maintenance closet. He stuffed the boat into it. MAYA led the way with a flashlight while MORGAN and MALCOLM carried the water and the food. They could almost taste the fetid stench as they ascended the nearest ramp to the dome's 300 level.
MORGAN worried that "Bierman" might recognize him, so he hung back in the dark. MAYA and MALCOLM carried the supplies to the volunteer station.
There were two volunteers sitting at the table near section 305, a man and a woman, both in their mid-twenties. MAYA introduced herself as a FEMA representative. "How can I help you?" asked the man. He had an non-descript Southern accent. He probably wasn't local, but she wasn't sure.
MAYA said that they had food and bottled water. MALCOLM handed the man the water, MAYA handed the woman the food. "Finally!" said the woman. She opened the Sterlite container. The sandwiches were still fresh, and the interior of the container was slightly cooler than room temperature. It had been in an air conditioned environment less than an hour before, after all. If she noticed this, the woman didn't say anything. She took out a sandwich and bit into it. She smiled and took the container down the short corridor behind the table. The male took the water. He smiled and nodded. The agents smiled back and left.
They returned to MORGAN. Now it was just a waiting game. The three agents decided to move away from the section. It would take at least half an hour for the tranquilizers to kick in. Returning in an hour would be safer.
As they walked back to the ramp, they saw a light approaching them. The light played over them and away. Then it settled back on them. Two men stepped up to them. The man with the flashlight aimed it at his own face, from below. "Dr. Frost, ain't it?" asked the man.
"Yes..." said MORGAN, in a worried voice. He squinted, then recognized State Troopers Devereaux and Klemmer.
The troopers were looking for state or federal health officials. The government presence, as pitiful as it was, holed up in a downtown hotel. They weren't sure which blacked-out hotel to go to, so they started looking for someone at the Superdome. They were out of communication with their superiors and were acting completely on their own.
"We found a body," said Klemmer. "Badly mutilated. We don't know what to do with it." The body was up on the 17th Street levee. They didn't know what to do with the corpse, and were looking for some guidance. An EMT downstairs said he thought there were some FEMA officials up here."
MORGAN asked them about the body. They described it as male Caucasian. His face had been badly mutilated, as though the flesh had been ripped off it, but there were no other signs of trauma.
MORGAN told the troopers that he and his team would accompany them to the site. He wanted to see the body for himself. The corpse's condition didn't sound like it was attacked by the alligator-thing that they encountered earlier that evening, but they needed to be sure.
The troopers agreed to take them to the body. They had a shallow draught boat waiting beside the Superdome. The agents followed the troopers. In hushed tones the troopers described the scene of a lone body on the levee, piquing MORGAN's interest.
As they left the Superdome, MORGAN made a slight head nodding gesture toward the police officers. He carefully slid the handle of his gun out of his manpurse and into view for a second. He then settled back in the manpurse such that he could pull it out very quickly. MALCOLM and MAYA understood; MORGAN didn't trust the troopers. They slowly, and carefully, shifted their own guns in their waist bands so that they would be more easily accessible.
A short distance from the Superdome, under the Highway 90 overpass, was a state police boat. The craft was designed for operation in shallow water, making it ideal for New Orleans. Klemmer went to the boat's wheel, turned the ignition switch, gunned the engine, and piloted them toward the 17th Street canal.
The water level rose as they approached the canal. It had breached the previous day, but the agents couldn't see the breach. They couldn't see much of anything in the gloom. Devereaux said that they spotted the body shortly before sunset.
Klemmer drove the boat against the levee, grounding it. The agents jumped off the boat. "It's up on the bank," said Devereaux. The troopers led the way.
"Be on your guard," whispered MORGAN to MALCOLM and MAYA.
They began climbing the levee. "Up on the other side," Klemmer added.
They got to the top of the levee and scoured the bank with their flashlights. They couldn't see a body. MALCOLM suggested that the body may have been moved.
Before they could look any further, they heard the sound of two handguns cocking. They spun around. Somehow Devereaux and Klemmer had slid out of the Delta Green agents' line of sight so silently and so quickly that the Delta Green agents hadn't noticed. The troopers were standing over them. Devereaux's pistol was aimed at MORGAN, Klemmer's was aimed at MALCOLM. Faster than the eye could register, the trooper's pistols were suddenly aiming at MALCOLM and MAYA. The troopers were moving with inhuman speed.
"I do believe I smell something a little... green," said Devereaux.
"Hands above your head. Slowly," ordered Klemmer. "Turn around."
The Delta Green agents complied, raising their hands and turned around. They really had no choice. If there was an opening, they would take it, but it looked like they were at the mercy of the troopers — who were almost certainly members of Majestic-12.
MALCOLM heard one of the troopers move up behind him. The other moved behind MAYA. He heard the rustle of the trooper's shirt. MALCOLM went for his gun. He was pretty sure he would be dead in the next few seconds, anyway.
Klemmer pitched forward, falling between MALCOLM and MAYA. A split second later they heard a gun shot.
The agents spun around. MORGAN and MAYA went for their pistols. Devereaux's attention had been distracted by the gun shot, but he turned back to the agents with blinding speed. MORGAN was quickest on the draw and fired point-blank into the trooper. The trooper pitched forward, but did not drop. He aimed his gun at MORGAN.
MORGAN saw a flash off in the distance. Devereaux's head snapped forward, but the trooper miraculously regained his footing. A part of the man's skull was missing near his right temple, but he still managed to bring his gun to bear on MORGAN. MAYA fired a bullet into the side of the trooper's head just as the trooper shot at MORGAN. Trooper Devereaux fell over, as still as Klemmer.
The agents froze for a moment, then they dropped down beside the troopers. Neither seemed to be breathing, but MALCOLM wasn't taking a chance. He slit Devereaux's throat, then repeated the process on Klemmer. While he did that, MAYA and MORGAN scanned the area for any sign of the sniper.
MORGAN couldn't see where the shots came from, but he guessed they were fired from a few hundred yards away. That meant someone with a rifle and a telescopic sight. "Quick," cried MORGAN, "back to the boat!"
The agents ran down the bank of the levee, toward the state police boat.