((OOC: Since their islands are too small to support an airport or a runway, they're using Nearby Kodiak Island's runway instead ((Vatrou, if this is an issue in territory use, let me know. I just assume the sight is unused, so if it is a territorial dispute, maybe we can work that into the RP)) of their 'home islands'.))

[color=1a7b30][b][i]Kodiak Island, Kodiak Airport[/i][/b][/color]

The sight was seemingly unused and since word from the Vegas base had given the Motherbase word of the greenlight for control of Searchlight, the base was buzzing with activity. An old Pre-War military cargo plane had been put to use, its wings unfolded after weeks of repairs. They only had about 3 pilots with any training, courtesy of Pre-War flight simulation pods and today their skills were going to be put to the test. The marshallers on the runway were slowly guiding the plane out, trying to get it out as fast as possible before the snowstorm blew in. Thankfully, the plane was taking off without a hitch. The control tower breathed a sigh of belief as the men and women manning the radar station were thankful there were no errors when a sudden ping worried them. "Ma'am, we've got signs of incoming radar traffic. Looks to be....another cargo plane?" The lead officer's brow furrowed, "It must be the Brotherhood. We hadn't expected their arrival so soon. Standby on the radio for any incoming calls. Badger, call in to Base, tell them we have a possible Brotherhood arrival." The radio's dusty lights began to blink to life and a static broken voice came in. "Fo-...Broth...Flight Charl-..." The officer on the radio grew annoyed, trying to adjust the frequency to pick up the call, "This is Arctic Haven to Brotherhood, you're breaking up, over." After a few more tries, they finally got the frequency right, "Foxhound, this is Brotherhood Flight Charlie Five One", the aircraft signaled. "We are inbound, ETA 15 minutes. Request clearance to land and landing instructions, over." The officer nodded, writing down the expected time, "Roger that, C51. This is Arctic Haven Control Tower, you're clear for landing. Be advised of an incoming snowstorm, the marshallers will see you safely onto the runway. Just look for the flares if the snow picks up before then and watch for ice on the runway. Over."

On the ground, an elite unit of troops in Combat Armor Mk2 with balaclavas and dyed dark brown Yao Guai fur cloaks stood ready for their arrival. They'd been brought in to escort the current team by boat and hadn't expected the Brotherhood, but their job would remain the same. To escort the Brotherhood to the supply trucks and take them to the docks, then ride back to the central base to meet with their commander.