Chemical Dumping
Participants
Summary
Emma is conducting her routine patrol along Fire Tower Road in the dense pine forest on a hot July afternoon when she notices her unnaturally quiet surroundings. Suspicious sounds and smells in the air draw her near a recently made vehicle trail deep in the forest, so she follows it cautiously and spots an illicit operation hidden in a clearing. She sees six men and a few white, unmarked panel trucks with obscured company logos. Two men are in Tyvek suits unloading and burying 55-gallon chemical drums marked 'XK-47'. One is using a bulldozer to dig the disposal pit, a man managing inventory, and finally a man with an assault rifle and an earpiece providing security.
She eavesdrops from a hiding spot. Apparently, the crew is cleaning up evidence from a recent explosion at "Building 7". There's mention of other dump sites and efforts to avoid regulatory scrutiny from OSHA and federal investigators. The appear to be under orders to stay quiet and finish quickly, and they're clearly aware that whatever they're doing is a hell of a crime.
Emma sticks aorund as long as she can until a startled deer crashes through the forest, nearly compromising her position and drawing the attention of the rifleman. She stays calm under pressure and takes advantage of the commotion caused by the deer to slip away, then she returns to the ranger statio to log the coordinates of the dump site and make plans to take action.
Log
(Medina - 02:24 PM) Emma's morning patrol route along the Fire Tower Road takes her past a section of dense pine forest where the canopy blocks most of the early sunlight. It's supposed to be quiet out here, past the birdsong, the wind through the trees, and occasionally the distant rumble of logging trucks on the farm to market road.
But today, the soundscape is different. At first, Emma might think what she's hearing is those logging trucks - they're expected. But it sounds off. Different. Enough to make any rational person pause and listen to what doesn't sound typical. And as that peculiar detail strikes her, the next thing she notices is the absence of birdsong, ergo the absence of birds, and then as she concentrates, the rumble of 'logging trucks' is less of an engine and more like a mechanical whine. She smells the acrid bite of diesel exhaust cutting through the forest air once the strange situation informs her next breath. Her sharp eyes pluck out a barely-visible trail that was recently made by a large vehicle pushing through, maybe more than one. While the understory of the forest struggles in the July heat, there still are hardy plants, and the usually dense yaupon holly and the bracken ferns lay trampled by tire treads. The carpet of fine pine needles, usually dry and crunchy by this time of year, were obviously churned by the passing of tires.
(Emma - 02:36 PM) Like most days, Emma has a routine that she follows. Things are taken care of at the Ranger Station and then she heads out to actually lay eyes on places to make sure that there's nothing out of place. And most days? There isn't anything out of place. It's quiet, beyond the wildlife and that suits her just fine. It leaves her with her thoughts and the hike she takes toward the Fire Tower is pretty much done on autopilot, since she's made it so many times.
So it might take her a little bit of time to realize that the sounds aren't the same as they usually are. The birdsong is missing and something else has taken its place. She pauses at the edge of some trees, dark eyes scanning the area as she looks around, trying to pinpoint just what is wrong with the picture.
About the time she hears that noise, she notices the underbrush and 'trail' that's been trampled down. Frowning, she edges toward it while still keeping to the treeline.
(Medina - 02:44 PM) As Emma approaches the trampled path deeper into the forest, she catches glimpses through the dense pine branches of something that absolutely does not belong. The noise rings in clearer now, rounding out into the grinding of some kind of machinery, not the engine rumble of logging trucks. Through gaps in the pine, the holly and heat-wilting fern, she can just make out flashes of white and yellow vehicles, maybe work trucks, moving about in the distance. Far away enough to not quite make out details, and in exchange, likely also to not be noticed, herself. Proximity will come with its price, but also its rewards.
The sharp chemical smell is stronger if she focuses on it, mixed with diesel exhaust and something else that just so burns the nose. Dark smoke starts rising from somewhere ahead, wispy tufts that bear the ominous, oily color that speaks of burning petroleum. She can hear voices. At least three different men are talking, though their words are muffled by distance and the sound of whatever machinery they're running. One voice sounds agitated, maybe giving orders.
Whatever they're up to, the thick yaupon and pine branches is blocking her view of just exactly what it is they're doing. She'll need to get closer or find a better vantage point to see the full scope of whatever's happening in that clearing ahead.
<OOC> Emma says, "How close is all this to the fire watch tower?"
<OOC> Medina says, "The fire tower is close enough to potentially give you a great vantage point. It's a few hundred yards through the trees, but from up there, you'd have a clear view down into their clearing, but you'd be pretty exposed. If they have someone posted as a lookout the tower would be an obvious place to watch. If things go sideways, the tower has limited escape routes while alternatively giving you, well, a tower to shoot from! Alternatively, if you try to work your way closer through the treeline that's also possible. It'd be harder to see details, but give you much better concealment and, if things go sideways, more than one escape route. So each option is open to you, it's a matter of tradeoffs."
(Emma - 03:01 PM) The chemical smell has Emma wrinkling her nose as it reaches her. It also has her clenching her jaw as she moves through the trees, slipping through them as quietly as she can so that she can edge her way forward. This is the first time she's come across people messing around in the forest like this and she's not happy about it. There's a brief look back toward the Firewatch Tower, consideration given to it for a moment, because she knows she'd have a clear view.
The thought of heading that way is dismissed, though, since the clearing around it would leave her exposed and she has no idea if whoever the people are have stationed lookouts around.
At least with all the machinery noise, they're not likely to hear any rustling in the underbrush as she moves. And the color of her uniform means that she mostly blends in with the forest around her. Time to be a little stealthy, if she can.
(Medina - 03:21 PM) Emma's careful approach through the trees pays off. As she moves, the radio on her belt pinches her skin and reminds her - she occasionally gets routine check-ins from the station every two or three hours and one is due in around five to ten minutes. She has a choice to make, then: turning it off and taking her time (and coming up with why she didn't check in) versus acting swiftly to get in and out. And while she makes that decision, she's concealed behind a thick stand of pine. She gets a clear view of the operation about fifty yards ahead and the source of that smoke: the emissions of a diesel machine running hot and dirty.
Three unmarked panel trucks are parked in a hastily-cleared area, their rear doors open. A small bulldozer, the one belching exhaust under its strenuous work, is digging what looks like a disposal pit while two men covered wrist to wrist and head to toe in white Tyvek suits and respirators roll fifty-gallon drums off the truck beds! The drums bear faded industrial labels. She can make out "XK-47" and the presence of shipping tags but not what the latter say.
One man keeps checking his watch and radio, clearly agitated about timing, as he looks up periodically to the firewatch tower. It seems Emma made the right choice: they ARE paying attention up there.
And then there's a fourth man who is positioned with a clear view of the nearby access road, holding what is /definitely/ an assault rifle. She can only see him from behind, but she recognizes the stock of that rifle all the same even if she just sees a snippet of it, blocked by the angle and his body. He's scanning the treeline, thankfully in the wrong direction for now.
Emma can count at least six people total, working with the urgency of people who know they're breaking some serious federal pound me in the ass prison laws. This isn't corporate contractors following environmental protocols, this is an armed cleanup crew destroying evidence. So far, though, they're focused on their work and the road approach. So long as she stays un-noticed... Things should be okay. But one mis-step and she'll find herself outnumbered by people who have clearly anticipated interference.
(Emma - 03:32 PM) Once she's got a decent spot, Emma crouches down so that she can watch. She's not stupid enough to move closer, especially after seeing the guy with the assault rifle. A quick look at her watch has her frowning before she reaches to turn her radio off. Alerting them to her presence isn't something she wants to do and the squawking of her radio will surely do that as soon as it crackles to life.
So she stays crouched down and watching, taking in as much detail as she can to file away so that she can pass it on. And looking pissed off all the while that someone would dare dump stuff in her forest. And, yes, she considers it hers. There's that temptation to rush out and face them, but she knows it would be a bad idea. And since it's not the day and age of smart phones that can record everything, the best she can do is watch and take mental notes.
(Medina - 04:08 PM) With her radio silenced, Emma buy sherself the time to really observe. So she gets a much clearer picture of the operation, where the men in Tyvek suits are being extremely careful with the drums as they go to bury them. Seems this crew has just gotten started burying the barrels.
Emma watches. There's one guy with a clipboard checking off each barrel as it goes into the pit. The bulldozer operator keeps the engine running but periodically shuts down the digging to let the disposal crew work. During one of these quiet moments -- quiet anyway due to the lack of bulldozer engine -- she overhears some conversation.
"Jesus," one of them complains, "How much more of this shit do we have to dump?" It's a valid complaint: it's like ninety fuckin' degrees out here, that Tyvek suit must be an oven. He momentarily removes his respirator to get some less stuffy air, and as he does, Emma can see that there are chemical burns reddening his mouth and nose. He must've been exposed at some point recently and tried to contain it. He regrets trying to get 'fresh' air, because it isn't, not here. He puts the respirator right back on.
"Everything from Building 7," comes another's answer. "We have until noon to clear this batch and get to the next site."
"Main office is really freaking out about this, huh? First they shut down the whole night shift, now we're out here playing cleanup crew."
One of the others cuts in like the complainer is just, mentally deficient or somethign: "The hell do you /expect/, Dembinski? The plant fucking /blew up/, do you think they're going to just hold still for OSHA and the investigators? Matter of time before the articles roll out. Wonder what kind of spin they paid for."
"Just move the drums and keep your mouth shut," warns the guy with the rifle over his shoulder, still watching the access road. "If anyone comes asking questions, we were never here." His slow sweep of the treeline is methodical. Gotta be private security. Maybe a military background. EIthe rway, some kind of professional. Emma's sharp eye catches that he's waering an earpiece whose coil disappears down his shirt.
"What about that ranger station? Someone's gonna notice all these tire tracks eventually."
"That's why you -keep a move on-."
Emma also has time to observe the trucks. No visible license plates on the backs. A compressor paint job has made each car impatiently white, but she can see, juuuust barely, the impression of painted-over vinyl lettering. She can't quite make it out entirely, but the lingering imprint of the painted-over company masthead has '...ILCO' over one truck door.
They make quick work. At their current pace, they'll be done and gone within the hour.
(Emma - 04:17 PM) The conversation is welcome. It gives Emma a little more insight on what's going on and why. She doesn't look happy when they mention moving to another site, but she's not going to do anything to give away where she's hiding. She listens to them bitch and moan, while continually scanning the area to look things over. The guy with the assault rifle is of particular interest, considering it looks as though he's got the training to be a real issue if it were to come to that. And if he has an earpiece, it means there are others nearby that do, as well.
So she stays where she is, covered by the underbrush and shadows of the trees, giving silent thanks for the fact that she doesn't mind insects as a centipede wanders its way across one of her hands. She looks tempted to shake her hand to get it off, but resists the movement.
(Medina - 04:37 PM) As the minutes pass, it's clear the crew's getting antsy. Emma can hear it in their voices as the work drags on in the heat. "Seriously though, how much longer?" one of them complains, pulling at his Tyvek suit. "I signed up to move chemicals, not bury evidence. I don't wanna go to fuckin' jail."
"Relax, nobody's going to jail. We're almost done," the guy with the clipboard answers, checking off another drum. "Just the Sheldon Road facility left after this."
"Nobody IMPORTANT is going to jail. What happens when OSHA does show up and they start asking why half the night shift is missing? What if-—"
"Shut up and work," the rifle guy cuts him off. "We've got a schedule to keep."
That's when the sound of snapping branches crashes through the forest off in the distance to Emma's left. The frantic thrashing of something crashing through the brushcracks through the air like a gunshot, and the man with his rifle immediately swings his gun towards the sound, his whole body jolting into high alert.
Emma sees it's a white tailed deer racing through the foiliage, spooked by something deeper in the forest. The rifle guy, with a different vantage point, doesn't seem to see that, and so he's moving in her direction.
""Probably just an animal," clipboard guy says, but his voice has lost its casual tone. The gruntworkers in the Tyvek pause momentarily to crane their necks in the direction of the sound.
"Maybe," Rifle guy replies, still focused on the wrong patch of forest, his range of vision uncomfortably close to Emma. "Wrap it up anyway. We've been here long enough."
(Emma - 04:47 PM) The sudden crashing of the deer through the brush startles Emma. She just about pops up from where she's crouched down, but stops herself just in time. Likely a second or two before the guy with the rifle swings around to look in that direction. While he's scanning over the trees, she shrinks back just a little, settling further into the shadows without moving too much, or making any noise. Getting shot at this point would really suck. She does, however, let her hand settle over her sidearm in case she needs to pull it free.
She's getting impatient now and silently wills them to hurry and finish what they're doing so that she can make her way back to the Ranger Station. Because now these barrels are going to have to be dealt with and that's going to take some organizing, as well. They're all way closer to the forest caern than she's comfortable with, even if it's still miles away from this spot.
Emma spends a Willpower and rolls Wits.
(You're powerfully tempted to stick around but manage to wrench yourself out of the situation with the deer as your distraction cover.)
(Emma rolls Dexterity + Stealth for 4 successes. Detection dice were rolled - they don't notice her.)
(Medina - 05:18 PM) Emma is able to slip away through the forest with practiced quiet thanks to the deer's distraction. Her careful footsteps put distance between herself and the disposal crew, the sounds of their operation fading behind her.
When she gets back to the ranger station, she flips her radio back on, she's confronted about her having missed the expected check-in, but a cover story is easy enough to come up with: she was helping some lost hikers find their way back to the main trail. It all must seem so pointless and frustrating against what sorts of calls she knows she needs to make given her background on the force, both literal and figurative calls. After all, she's just witnessed federal crimes on federal land with what sounds like missing persons involved...
She marks the coordinates of the contamination site on her patrol map and starts planning her return trip for later once she's sure the crew has moved on to whatever they're doing next. While what all she will find once she has the opportunity to investigate unfettered remains to be seen, one thing is for certain. Someone with resources and firepower is trying very hard to cover up something that went very wrong at an industrial facility. And now they're dumping the evidence in her forest. Just what sort of rabbit hole did this park ranger find and how far down does it go?