JWOMACK94,
Years ago, looooong before 9/11, I was working for Games Workshop as their convention events and demo guy and was scheduled to fly to GenCon in Milwaukee out of Baltimore Washington International with about 250 painted figures for our big 40K event. Back in those days I used hard -plastic rifle cases with egg-crate foam to cart around my mini's. They were cheap; you could get them at any sporting goods store; and they safely held a big old boatload of figures.
So, young and naïve as I was at that time, I stroll into BWI, a little scruffy, wearing an "Inquisition Tested: Morally Pure" 40K t-shirt, and totting two rifle cases. Thirty or forty yards out from the security gate I noticed that one of the of the guards was looking intently back up the gangway in my direction but, being young and quasi-oblivious, I had no idea exactly who he was looking at with such interest. About ten more yards down the corridor I noticed that his hand went down towards his sidearm and I was beginning to think, "Man! What's going down here?" I get to within about fifteen feet of the guy and it becomes readily and disconcertingly apparent to me that he is staring – right – at – me – and some deeply buried survival response mechanism kicks in and I stop walking.
Now the guard, a rather sizable gentleman of color who looks for all the world to be a very fit ex-military type, not one of your typical pudgy and bored TSA drones, looks me dead square in the eyes and says with palpable gravity and intensity, "Boy, what you got in those cases?" My mouth goes _very_ dry and the figures cases, albeit already filled with lead, suddenly feel like they are FILLED WITH LEAD. I think I squeaked something like, "Uhm, err, uhm, it's . . . uhh, they're, uhm toy soldiers. Little . . toy . . . soldiers. Made of lead. Sir." He gives me a very convincing "If you even twitch I'm gonna take you down hard" look, and says, "Put'em ona floor. Reaaal slow. Right there." My eyes focused tightly on his hand which is hovering oh so near his unsnapped holster, I gingerly put the cases on the floor.
In one of those near out-of-body like moments it becomes clear that the whole bloody security area has stopped to watch this little drama play out. Mr. Security Guy says, "You open that case. Real . . real . . . slow. You unna-stand me?" I nodded, and did as instructed. Revealed within were a large number of smartly painted, if I do say so myself, Eldar Guardians and a smattering of Space Orks. The guard looked them over and then looked back up at me questioningly. I handed him an Eldar figure and said, "See? Toy soldiers. There's a convention this weekend. You might see some more guys with stuff like this coming through." He just shook his head with a mixture of disbelief and pity, and waved me through to the check-in line. I can't say for sure but it seemed that a few of the folks who had stopped to watch might have been snickering as I went by. Hey, at least I lived.
So, I don't know to what extent any of that will turn out to relevant to your situation, but, in the unlikely event that it does go less than swimmingly for you just remember that you won't have been the first guy to run into trouble. And as a been-there-done-that-won't-ever-do-it-again heads up – rifle cases are not the best options for air travel, then or now. Pavelift and Pictors Studio are right; ship the things out.
Good luck! See you at the Con.
Mark
