~~GM~~
The plan was a simple one. Using the sub that rescued Korvax and Portia back at the ship graveyard, the team would infiltrate the city underwater. They would travel from the Cyclades, keeping as close to the bottom of the ocean as possible to avoid shipping lanes, naval patrols and radar. Once they were at the city docks, they would swim through one of the sewage pipes, then travel through the underground sewage systems until reaching the 'America District,' where their inside man would be waiting for them. They would also be given a briefing and file on known information about the city, what lead to its building, and why it has hostility towards 'scattered.'
('The Ruined Earth' Codex)
The informant was a local in the city, with a code phrase to repeat to them"
"Can I borrow a match?"
"I use a lighter"
"Better still"
"Until they go wrong"
Either the informant, or anyone on the team, would have to repeat these words verbatim to ensure they were the correct person. If the phrases were not said correctly, they were not who they were looking for. Disguises were up to them all to decide on, with the key being to blend in with the other people in the city. They were to look and act like middle class folk, and were given clothing to fit in, along with fake identities should they get stopped by police or security squads. The key to ensuring their cover was to look and act human.
It may have sounded redundant, but they were going into a city that despised beings like them. Those from other worlds that had destroyed their world and brought humanity to the brink of extinction. If they didn't sound, look, or act like they belonged and were born on this version of Earth, they would be sniffed out easily. They were going straight into the heart of the lion's den, with no room for error.
Tintin and Haddock would stay behind on the sub, not wanting to make their team any bigger than it needed to be to cause unwanted attention. They would drop them off, sail off to the coast, and wait with the 'Epiphany' for the call to pick them up. But it would take them time to return, if they could, should security ramp up along the waterways and make it impossible to travel through again. If the team needed to leave immediately because of an emergency, it would likely take a day for the sub to reach the docks again. Whenever they had to leave, they would have to do it well in advance.
With all the precautions made, the team would set off on the sub a day later to give them one more good night's rest. They would need it.
The sub would be launched into the city at the early hours of the morning, just as the sun was peaking above the horizon. Each team member was given earpieces they could use to interact with each other over short distance radio, with the warning being to use it sparingly in the event the city's security could track radio waves. The journey would take an exhausting twelve hours, with the only entertainment being each other and a deck of playing cards.
The viewing under the sea was at least an astonishing one. Passing through the Cyclades, they would see alien species of fish roaming the coral filled reefs, and battleships that looked over a hundred years old littering the bottom of the ocean floor. There were dozens of planes scattered between them, airships of both alien and human design. They were likely shot down in the sky, with their remains landing in the sea and sinking to join their fallen brethren. There were even old skeletons still sitting in the cockpits.
About fifty miles from the city, the sub would have to go dead quiet. Any noises made, even something as simple as tapping on the sides of the walls, could be picked up on radar if they were careful. Even their speed had to be reduced by half so the sounds of the engines and motors weren't strong enough to send out pulses. They could just about see at the ocean ceiling the passing cargo freighters passing by, along schools of fish following them. Even a few dozen dolphins and a small family of whales. Pipes started to appear along the ocean floor, and the waters turned from royal blue to an algae filled green.
The pollution along the docks was disgusting to see. Trash was all along the bottom, and the oil floating atop the ceiling was so thick, it was blocking out most of the sun. It did make for hiding easier at least. Half a mile out from the docks, the sub would stop, and each team member given their disguises in water tight backpacks they could wear while swimming, along with small breathing apparatuses. One by one, they would make their way out of the sub through the airlocks, then follow the pipes along the ocean floor until reaching the dock walls. There was a row of several larger pipes with grates covering them, each with valves they could be turned to open them.
Once they entered the correct pipe, they would swim for another third of a mile, before they would finally enter an open air passage. Inside their packs were towels and some fragrances they could spray on themselves to try and remove the smell, but... it wouldn't work too well, unfortunately. The paper maps they were supplied with would lead them down the sewer systems. It would take them three hours of walking to reach the place they were supposed to exit from, which was a manhole in an alleyway just outside a plaza. The night was already underway by the time they made their exit, making blending into the crowd without being noticed easy, and from here on out, they were finally at their destination.
There was a section of the street cut off with neon crime scene tape, with men dressed in hazmat suits studying a dead body that was shot down in the middle of the road. It was an alien woman of some sort. She was dressed in heavy red and black armor, with blue skin and cartilage-based scalp-crest that looked like tendrils, along with markings along her face that looked painted on. She had been dead a while, and the hazmats were collecting her remains, along with anything else she may have 'contaminated.'
Across from the crime scene was a small market of some kind. The smell of cooking food would fill their noises, as
music was playing from one of the stands. They were grilling meats and making them into enchiladas and burritos. No one eating there paid any attention to the crime scene, like it was just another day. On the other side of the street, the closest open building looked to be some sort of store, though it was hard to make out what type it was by the name on it.
'Chvatils.'
