Alfred continues to move towards the last known position of the poles as he searches for the soldier that was carrying the sniper rifle. As he moves towards the enemies position he gets the attention of the small band of soldier still in the general area from him. He gives them the signs to keep a watch on the UAZ & the other group of soldier that are further a field whilst also informing them to search the soldier & collect what ever equipment that may be of use to them. Take a couple of prisoners as well, we will get Don to speak to them to get some information out of them.


Once all the equipment is collected Alfred & the wo/men will move quickly towards the UAZ & the other soldiers to see what is happening over it that location.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:30, Wed 07 Apr 2004.

William heads over to the downed comrade, has a look, then pulls out his med kit before he starts patching up the holes. "I got him, come back and pick us up" William says to Don and Cam.

Don runs over to the downed Pole, to ask him some questions.

Tanya's captive is seriously wounded and in need of medical attention. It speaks volumes for his toughness that he is still conscious and even more that he was able to try and escape the area while badly injured.

Cam scouts around the imediate battle area and, along with Alfred, find the remaining nine Poles. Most of them have been killed but a couple are still alive, albeit breifly. (If they aren't killed then they will probably die of wounds without medical attention in the next ten to fifteen minutes.)

All up you find: 6 Steel helmets, 4 Kevlar Helmets, 2 Flack Jackets, 2 Kevlar Jackets, 1 SVD Sniper rifle with 4 10rd mags, 1 M177 carbine (cut down M16) with 5 20rd mags, 1 4xbinoculars, 3 HC smoke grenades, 1 C7/M203 fitted with telescopic sight(Tanya presently holding) with 5 30rd mags (-2 rounds) and 5 40mm HEDP grenades, 1 PM-63 SMG with 2 40rnd mags, 1 RPK with 4 75rnd mags, 1 HP-35 pistol with 1 13rnd mag, 2 personal medikits, 1 portable laser rangefinder, 7 AKM assault rifles with 21 30rnd mags (-40 rounds total), 1 P-38 pistol with 1 8rnd mag, 1 P7 M13 pistol with 2 13rnd mags, 1 doctors medical kit, 2 fragmentation grenades, 1 IR goggles, 1 Gas mask, 1 flashlight, and finally, 1 M18A1 Claymore mine.

Andy continues his headlong dash towards the UAZ with Dave Guido not far behind.

One of the ex-prisoners (Canadian) crouches low in the wheat and moves quickly towards the UAZ. He yells out as he moves, We have wounded. I need to find a medical kit.

The "Civilian" climbs up into the back of the UAZ and raises his sniper rifle. Attempting to cover both the approaching Canadian as well as Andy and Dave, he yells out, NO-ONE APPROACH in several different languages starting with english.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:36, Sun 11 Apr 2004.

"Don I got more urgent matters for you to attend to leave the prisoner in the hands of Tanya whilst you go check out what is happening down near that vehicle." Alfred barks at the scotsmen.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:22, Sun 11 Apr 2004.

"No way, sir! This lad is wounded, probably mortally, as the rest are. He should be able to answer some questions that can help us, right, Mr Nelson?"

Sir, Tanya drawls in her heavily accented American voice, it might be a betta idea if ah head over t' th' jeep and leave Don t' talk wi' this fella. I'm th' only one with anythin' resemblin' a heavy weapon aft' all.
Waiting just long enough to turn the prisoner over to somebody else, she skips back to where she found the M203 and retrieves a couple of extra grenades and a spare magazine before sprinting off after Dave and Andy.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 13:38, Sun 11 Apr 2004.

The "Bulgarian" climbs into the drivers position of the UAZ. After a few moments, the vehicle begins moving eratically backwards to where the "prisoners" are crouched in the wheat. It jerks to a halt a few metres from where you know the Prisoners to be.

Meanwhile Andy and Dave have closed the gap to only 60m and Tanya is now at around 200m. The rest of you are still searching the Poles and gathering equipment while Don begins his "interrogation".
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:10, Tue 13 Apr 2004.

Guido in a bid to save the senseless torture of defenceless gearboxes, he cuts to one side so that Andy is not in the line of fire, raises his rifle takes aim at the Bulgarian and shouts in poor english stop or Ill shoot

The captive Pole moans in pain under the barrel of Don's AK-74.[Private to Donnachaidh: Might be an idea to begin asking a few questions or maybe give first aid?]

Andy and Dave have reached a position approximately 50m from the UAZ. Both have raised their weapons and aimed towards the vehicle. Meanwhile, two wounded people have been loaded aboard and somebody has climbed back into the drivers position. Tanya continues running forward.

William finishes first aid on Richard Smythe.[Private to William Brown: Personal medikit expended.]
Alfred and Cam continue stripping the Poles.

Don kneels down beside the wounded man, still aiming the gun towards him, and starts speaking to him in Polish, but soon shouts over his own shoulder.

[Private to GM: Don't worry, the wound is not that bad. He says conforting to the Pole. I'll get someone to fix you.]

"Hey, lads! This guy is bleeding, can't someone at least give him some care? I don't even have a first aid!"

"And Mr Nelson! What do you want to know from this laddie?"

Again Don turns to the Polish man and asks him some more questions.

[Private to GM:
Where are you coming from?
Who are the prisoners?
Are there any troops on the way forward?
If so, where, and how many?.
Don't know if I should roll some rolls?]

Brown, get over to Don as soon as you've finished with Smythe.
Turning to reply to Don, he calls out, Use your best judgment.

After looking after his fellow teammate, William heads over to where Don is, then casually attempts to stick his bayonet into the 'victim'.

"Sorry Don, you were saying something"

He stares at Don, you get the impression that he is disdainful of the man's skills or abilties, and certainly not impressed by his character or 'rank', especially out here. Last he knew, voting polls were a long way away, and his chance to survive right here...

to hit roll: 8
Skill: 4 = miss
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:09, Fri 16 Apr 2004.

Don sees Brown coming with his bayonet, trying to defend the Pole. He isn't as swift as need be, but since Brown anyway misses nothing happens.

"You moron! Keep those things away from here, someone might get hurt! Get someone here to give him a first aid, instead!"

Don looks down on the Pole to see why he hasn't answered his questions. Is he already dead?

The captive groans in pain as Don asks his questions. His eyes squeezed shut. he misses seeing Brown's attempt to dispatch him. Finally he gathers himself enough to speak.
[Private to Donnachaidh: Although he is in agony, he still manages to speak with pride and self assurance.
Q: Where are you coming from?
A: Why would I tell you that?

Q: Who are the prisoners?
A: Capitalist pigs like you.

Q: Are there any troops on the way forward?
A: Of course.

Q: If so, where, and how many?.
A: You are surrounded. Give up now and your death shall be quick and painless]

Camilla looks up from her search of the dead Pole at the sound of alarm in Don's voice. She yells something in her native language of Danish towards Don and William as she climbs to her feet and starts towards them.

IC: Seeing he won't be getting a ride as it is too far for the poor tired SF Pom to walk, Kett will begin airborne-shuffling off after the young lady who has his C7. She seems to know where she's going. And he still wants his rifle back. As he runs, he scans the nearby terrain for threats.

OOC: airborne-shuffle : We used to call it that when I was a gropo. It's fast-walk 100 paces, trot 100, fast walk-100, trot 100. Not bad for small groups. Done in large groups, it has a lot in common with an accordion.

Major Smythe regains consciousness about a minute and a half after hitting the ground. (That would be about now!)

Seeing Smythe come around, William heads over to help him out, plus update him on what has happened.

 If there is a call for medical help needed, I will definitely go help if someone from the party I am already with will vouch that they are friendlies, not hostiles.

Assuming the rest follow, he'll trot after the vehicle, gun ready for the sniper in the bushes somewhere. Guessing he'd long be gone, but ready nothertheless.

And onwards we travel once more. He says to the others joggin behind the vehicle.

I think the other fellow, Dimtar...?... called you Sergio. And I recall you yelled at me in French. I'm an ango-Canadian, but I still recognize French even if I can't speak it.

Gary converses during the walking stage of the walk-trot-walk.

Your French doesn't sound like the French I heard around NDHQ or in the Army. I can't tell what is different about it, but it just doesn't sound like the french of the Quebecois I know. Where you from?

As the distance is eaten up at the easy lope, Gary too keeps his eyes on the fields, running beside Sergio, instinctively watching the opposite direction. Some habits become subconcious after a while.

Do you speak any Russian or German? Your English is much better than my French. But I can manage in Russian or German if the conversation doesn't get too heavy.

While on the move, Gary flips a bead on his pacer string every 200 paces or so. This too seems to have become unconscious.

Bouncing along in the front seat of the jeep, Dimitar keeps a surreptious watch on the grumpy driver out of the corner of his eye.  After a few moments, he says casually to the driver, "My name is Dimitar Nikolov.  You are English, yes?" looking at the man's uniform.

Not expecting an answer from the gruff soldier, Dimitar contents himself with observing the field from the window.  He smiles to himself that his days of walking appear to be over, at least for the time being.

Guido walks back hoping that the polish stray will be stupid enough to show his hand, keeping a carful watch about.

Obs: 8