4045/Welcome to Blackhawk Island

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Welcome to Blackhawk Island
Date of Scene: 12 March 2018
Location: Blackhawk Island
Synopsis: Zinda shows Natasha around the refurbished island base.
Cast of Characters: Lady Blackhawk, Shadow




Lady Blackhawk has posed:
"November-Charlie-Zero-Niner-Niner approaching Blackhawk Island, requesting tower clearance. Over." Zinda Blake is in the cockpit of the Learjet 75 somewhere over the North Atlantic. She's dressed in her Blackhawk uniform, complete with pilot's cap. It's off the usual air routes, being too far south for the Arctic lanes and too far north for the Caribbean.

Seeing as this flight is for a single passenger, Zinda has left the cockpit door open. She still speaks over the PA, however. "Okay, Skipper, we're on approach." she declares. And that's when she receives radio response as well. "Roger, November-Charlie-Zero-Niner-Niner, you are cleared to land."

Shadow has posed:
    Natasha knows the drill, of course - it's a rare CEO indeed that never travels - and she nods at Zinda, then returns to her passenger seat and fastens her belt, then looks out the window at the island below them.

    "I see you left the old buildings where you found them. Thinking of restoring them as a memorial or museum to the original Blackhawks?" She asks, only half teasing - a pilgrimage/tourist destination could help cover for quite a bit of traffic.

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
Making the initial pass low over the island, there's a click and whirr as Zinda lowers the gear. Flaps extend and she banks into a wide, smooth circle to bring around to the main runway. "Nah, Ah thought Ah'd just leave it the way it is. People don't generally mess with something that's outta commission. Look real close at the tower as we approach. Brand new phased-array radar."

Leveling out, the small jet slows and the nose raises for the approach. It's a smooth landing; Zinda has definitely done this before. "Everything active is underground, now. And what do you MEAN a memorial to the 'original' Blackhawks? Honey, Ah'm a walkin', breathin', drinkin' and cussin' memorial."

Shadow has posed:
    Natasha leans back in her seat, content to let Zinda have the last word rather than distract the pilot currently landing the plane she's in. Instead, she looks at the tower indicated, noting with some approval that despite its worn exterior it seems in very good working order. "Charming," she murmurs, waiting calmly for the plane to finish landing.

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    Zinda taxis the jet along the runway and into the remains of the hangar before powering it down. Unbuckling, she puts her cap back on and opens the cabin door. "C'mon and take a look around, Ms. Cranston." It's the first time Natasha has really gotten the chance to see what she paid for, after all. "This part's for the history buffs. But the really good stuff is downstairs."

Shadow has posed:
     Natasha unbuckles and stands up, straightening her skirt as she prepares to follow Zinda out of the plane. "I look forward to seeing it," she replies, picking up her high heels as she goes and slipping a pair of shades over her eyes before she reaches the door -- she's not a fan of the bright Caribbean sun.

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    Zinda lets Natasha step out first, and it's a nice day. A temperate wind blows from the west, neither warm nor particularly cold. "Stay inside the hangar for a moment." she offers. Giving a wave towards the control tower, she gives a quick circling-gesture over her head as a signal. A moment later the whole floor gives a shimmy before beginning to descend. "We got the elevator same place as we got the radar; courtesy a couple of US Navy contractors."

Shadow has posed:
    Does a remarkably effective job of staying on her feet as the whole floor starts moving downward. "Impressive," she says, looking up at the receding hangar ceiling above them. "And the hangar building neatly covers the sudden gap in the ground. Well done."

    She calmly walks up to the edge of the platform to get a good view of the underground base as the platform descends, smiling in approval as she takes in her new surroundings, doing a quick calculation in her head. "Enough space for two full squadrons, I see, although you'll have to sortie them four at a time. Not bad, not bad at all... How many permanent on-site staff?"

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    There's another Lear parked off to one side, along with one of Zinda's prop planes. The P-61. "Well, if we're expectin' trouble we can stage planes upstairs, too. Ain't like we're exactly along cruise ship routes out here." the blonde replies.

    "We got about 2 dozen staff right now, between flight control and maintenance and support. There's enough bunks for double that before things start to get cozy. Ah wanted somethin' that could become military with a snap of your fingers."

Shadow has posed:
    Natasha nods to herself, the CEO part of her brain already pondering logistics. "Food storage? I do hope you're not planning to keep them on MREs indefinitely..."

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    Zinda laughs softly at that, shaking her head. "Walk with me, Skipper." she replies, once the elevator settles completely. A maintenance chief approaches Zinda and she instructs. "Gas 'er up and run the checklist. We ain't in a real hurry."

    Gesturing towards one of the doors, she starts heading that way. "When the Blackhawks were all here we had us a really good Chinese cook. Keepin' in that spirit, and knowin' that we might be entertainin' fancy folk, Ah hired us a chef. Keeps the boys in good spirits."

Shadow has posed:
Natasha smiles and nods at the maintenance chief before following Zinda down the hallway, her heels clicking on the hard concrete floor. "Contract negotiations are so much more likely to go well when lubricated with excellent catering, I've found," she agrees. "The way to a man's heart is through their stomach, after all..."

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
"Well Ah've found a couple other ways in mah time, but Ah pretty generally agree with you." Zinda replies. Boot heels click in tempo with the heels as she leads down the hallway. The decor is simple, yet modern. And quite clean. They walk past a few rooms with windows along the way, a lounge and a rec room, an office here or there. "Mess hall's right this way."

While it's technically a mess hall, the large room looks more like a reasonably nice restaurant. "We've also got a more private dining room jus' through there." Zinda adds, gesturing towards a door on the other side of the mess hall.

Shadow has posed:
    "Very nice, indeed," Natasha comments, looking around the hall. "All possible creature comforts for your pilots, I see." There's definitely approval in her voice. "I've seen worse catering in two-star establishments."

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
Zinda winks at that. "Only the best. Take it from someone who's served in long campaigns. A little bit of good food and drink goes a real long way. Rooms are more like hotel rooms than an actual barracks as well. Even for the Enlisted. We get our supplies by air, but in a pinch we've got the sub pens active again. Magazine for munitions, whenever we can stock properly. Yep, we're pretty well set."

Shadow has posed:
    Natasha chuckles. "Maxim Seven: If the food is good enough, the grunts will stop complaining about the incoming fire," she quotes. "Sound advice in general; treat your subordinates well and you'll get much better performance and loyalty in return."

    She tilts her head. "Speaking of subordinates - have you started recruiting yet?"

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    Zinda blinks at the question and comes to a dead stop in their tour. "Recruiting? You mean for pilots? Soldiers?" She turns to look at the CEO and tilts her head. "You're serious about this, ain't you?"

Shadow has posed:
    Natasha raises an eyebrow, "Are you suggesting you weren't?" she asks, looking around the sparsely populated base. "Because this seems to me like a great deal of expenses to go through merely to indulge one's nostalgia..."

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    Zinda offers a wry smile at that, tipping her hat back. "Well Ah gotta admit that Ah've been talkin' with a few, talented stick-jockeys. Havin' a base is one thing, though. We gotta get some planes, too. Sure was a helluva lot simpler back when Blackhawk did it. Back then a gal could smoke on the plane and carry a gun in her purse. Things are a lot tighter now."

Shadow has posed:
    A few too many people with guns on a plane making questionable life decisions will do that," Natasha agrees. "As to planes, that is likely to be a problem. Cranston Multinational isn't in the business of purchasing military hardware, after all."

    She smiles. "Of course, you've always been a resourceful woman. I have every confidence you'll rise to the challenge... And before you ask, no - our contract with the Four Freedoms Foundation on the tech lease explicitly forbids military applications."

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    The blonde brightens all the same, lifting up onto her toes before settling. "Well we got government contractors supplyin' jets to US allies all the time these days. And Blackhawk is -technically- not in the US. Might need to finagle some sorta treaty or somethin', is all. Ah ain't no legal-eagle there."

    Zinda considers further, clasping hands behind her back. "Won't be F-22's, since the Air Force don't share real well, but we'll find somethin'. Maybe even Eurofighters. Don't worry too much about it."

Shadow has posed:
    Natasha smiles again. "Then I won't; it certainly sounds like you have things in hand."

    She looks around. "So, what did you wish to show me next?"

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
Zinda Blake leads the way out of the mess hall down another corridor, pacing slowly and talking while they walk. "Ordnance storage is down this way. Double, sealed doors in case of any problems. Hired a couple of retired EOD fellas to do the layout and specs. Nothin' serious in there right now. Just small arms and a couple of Ma Deuce's..." Of course. What arsenal would be complete without M-2 .50 calibers?

    The tour continues, showing the base to be mostly operational with just a few odds and ends in need of cleanup. Dinner is in the Officer's Mess, of course.

Shadow has posed:
    Natasha takes everything in with all the signs of an interested guest. Of course, Zinda is no stranger to shepherding around executives that are pretending to be interested, but Natasha does appear earnest, regularly making insightful observations and comments, as well as proving a highly engaging dinner guest. And then, all too soon, it's time to head back to "civilization"...