User:EmeraldCorruption/Sandbox

John PitcairnFanon Story: AC:PFanon Char 1Fanon Story 2Fanon Char 2

• I'm getting to it.

Prometheus - EmeraldCorruption
The buzzing of the engines was a calm one, if slightly annoying, but the remainder of the atmosphere was greatly the opposite. This drop was key, if the timing was just slightly incorrect, than the efforts would reveal the truth, one that needed to stay hidden for future endeavors. They weren't far out, but they still hadn't gotten the 'OK' from the rest of the team. A voice called out from the cargo-hold, echoing the sound emitting from the pilot's headset. "They had better hurry up."
"They will, don't worry," replied the pilot through his microphone, words dropping dryly through his trembling lips.
The monitor before him flashed green, countless zeros and ones flying about across the communicator. It was binary, something still relatively uncommon, but the pilot knew what it said. 'The time is now, Hawk.' With a deep breath, he flicked a few switches, and pressed one of the hundreds of buttons before him. A flickering crackle waved throughout the plane, muffling his accent, but still allowing the team to hear the order through the intercom. "10 minutes, aim the barrel,' the speaker sounded.
Immediately, the men situated in the cargo-hold went to work, pushing the crates to the designated points, fixing the harnesses of the supplies' parachutes. Hawk, the pilot, altered the course slightly, heading for the city. After the nine minute wait, he rose his hand up for the serviceman to see, the fist signaling that it was time. Glancing down below, he watched as his plane flew over the wall, heading closer to the grayed zone of the city while he controlled the flight. Red light...Yellow...Green. The back of the plane unhatched itself, and the ramp lowered quickly, while the men in the back pulled the strings on the crates and watched the parachutes tear them out of the plane. When the responding 'air-fist' was given, Hawk clicked the button once more to make the ramp close back, and he carefully turned the plane out of West Berlin over the Brandenburg Gate.
As the plane exited the boundaries of the city, Hawk gave the thumbs up to allow his team to speak again, just as another layer of binary etched over the dashboard. 'Good, now Main' the binary translated, the landing point established. They were to land in Frankfurt, disguised as one of the American cargo planes landing in the airbase during the night. Using the muffling speakers once more, Hawk ordered his men to change into the Allied uniforms.
Near to the runway, the Airspace Navigator organized their descent to the base, after Hawk provided the pass-code that had been sent to him through the dashboard. At the land-site, one of the commanders began asking about questions concerning what was brought to the area, and where they originated.
"It's all from Texas, mostly food and clothing, one or two with some classified cargo for the General," Hawk said.
"What is your name and rank, pilot?" the captain interrogated.
Using his American alias, he responded carefully, most of the other information whispered to him through his un-noticed earpiece. "First Lieutenant Jonathon Stone, I work directly for Truman, anything else is classified. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to meet a contact, my crew will help you unload the supplies, but their information if also classified, so don't ask, thanks Captain," Hawk said firmly before walking off and renting a vehicle with the Captain's name, information bestowed by his superiors. Driving out of the base, he eventually reached the meeting place of the farm.
Sitting back in one of the chairs, he waited until his contact decided it was safe to leave the shadows. "The journalists are already submitting their stories, you did good Morrow. Listen to this: 'Amerikanischen Versorgung West-Berlins', good job on the timing Jacob," the figure said as he sat beside Hawk, addressing him with his true name.
"Yeah, the governments will probably all start helping out, will give us a break to monitor our enemies..." Jacob said, words falling almost desperately.
"Cheer up, Jacob, this is a real accomplishment, considering you're only 18. Most of us don't do this major of work in the teams at an age like that," the man waited a bit, before picking back up in german. "Ich denke, es verdient eine Pause für Sie besonders. Vielleicht können Sie unseren Datenbanken, dass Mädchen, das du gejagt habe finden. Der Rest ist bis zu Ihrem Vorgesetzten, Jacob."
"Ich könnte genau das zu tun," Jacob responded. "Ich könnte genau das zu tun..."

• Erudito field agent
• Name is Isaac Morrow
  • Code Name is Crow

I will work on this tomorrow or something.

• Assassins
• Starting a few days before the end of AC3
• Ancestor in World War 1, multiple POE contacts

• I am getting to it.