<quote>
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 vehicle occupants and shouts in poor english stop or I'll shoot

OOC: All those players with access to this thread please continue posting here for the moment.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:34, Tue 13 Apr 2004.

Gallin will start at the sound of the poor english, and peek around the corner from where he is loading the injured to try to ID the uniform of the man who just scared the living daylights out of him with five words.

Sergio starts hurrying the people along. He knows both him and Dimitar are wanting to help people, but you can't help anyone dead.

We got wounded and we're getting out of here. Got no quarrel with you! Turn around!! he'll shout out, (in better english ), whilst clambering in the vehicle once more.

After a quick look at the pole pointing a rifle at the jeep, and then a glance at the dead polish soldier lying in the front seat next to him, Dimitar's brow furrows slightly.

Then, as the realisation struck "He spoke in English."

Whispering over his shoulder to Sergio, "Do we run Sergio?"

Dimitar then grinds the gears until he finds a forward gear and begins to search for the clutch point with his feet.

Sgt Gallin will jump in the back of the UAZ after the wounded are loaded, and upon hearing the gears grind, Grimaces. "If you need me to drive, I can, just get us to hell away from these Poles. I have no wish to die today." He will look for the nearest unowned weapon and if he sees one, take aim at the firt polish threat he sees. "We better hurrry, looks like they got RPGS."

Andy takes a couple more steps closer to the UAZ and raises the RPK-74 (light machinegun) to his shoulder. Taking aim at the drivers position he yells out in his best London english, Turn the bloody motor off NOW! There's no bloody way you're taking off with that bloody vehicle.

Never taking his eyes off the two men aiming automatic weapons at him, Dimitar says over his shoulder to the people in the back...
Somebody must talk to them.  They will not see me like friend.  I am Bulgarian.

Then, in a louder voice, he calls out to the threatening men
It is OK.  I want go America.
Dimitar smiles broadly but keeps the engine ticking over and his foot poised above the accelerator.

Step out from behind the vehicle slowly, with my hands in plain view.

Loudly, but not yelling:

Unless the English have decided that shooting unarmed men and wounded allies is somehow part of their Rules of Engagement, put that damn thing down. No one hear is going to hurt you, and you're scaring the crap out of my Bulgarian friend here! And since you didn't ask, I'm going to tell you anyway: Kett, G. Warrant Officer, Canadian Armed Forces, Princess of Wales Own Regiment. Last time I checked, we were on the same friggin' side as the Brits!

Gary stares calmly at the Brit with the machinegun. He's diminuitive, at about 5'6", and slight, with slightly greying black hair visible under his CADPAT helmet, whose straps dangle on either side of his head.

Those m&@^%$#$@ shot a bunch of us up, when they had us as prisoners after the cluster f^%k at Kalisz. Shot on unarmed soldiers who didn't want anything more than to get the hell home after their Army disintegrated out from under them.

Well, unless you figure to set yourself up in the same murderous manner, chill the f*&k out. These two fellows did us no harm and I think they're not looking for any trouble. They helped us out when those bastards were trying to murder us, and they're helping us now with the wounded.

You might do the same, if you still remember this little thing called NATO or another thing called the Geneva Convention if we're not friends anymore.

Gary's tone is cold. He seems to be more than a bit angry, having just been shot at and having watched innocent men shot down in cold blood. He isn't real interested in hearing much in the way of grief from some BFG-wielding arsehole who can't figure out that waving an MG in people's faces and yelling at them scares the crap out of them and makes them more likely to do something dumb.

He waits for a response.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 22:03, Wed 14 Apr 2004.

Andy and Dave continue to walk towards the UAZ, still aiming their rifles. Although not normally bloodthirsty killers, neither of them had no quarms about firing if the siuation warranted.
The grenade launcher armed woman continues her all out sprint closer. [Private to Gary Irwin Herbert Kett: She has your rifle, picked up from the Pole who took it from you.]
The Brit (Andy) calls out again. Get out of the vehicle. I want to see all your hands. All six of you. I'm in no mood for any shit from any of you.
The other man with him also speaks, We do not intend to fire upon you unless you make us. We're not going to take any chances.
I'm Staff Seargent Dave Guido of the Danish Jaegerkorpset (special forces) and my angry partner here is Sgt Major Andrew Corrigan of the British SAS. Do as you are told and no harm will come to you.

You can see my hands. And I'm sure I can persuade the gents here to step out, only I don't think the two wounded, especially the German with the shattered leg, will be stepping anywhere. And I'm not real sure the medic ought to leave them either.

Gary looks coolly at the approaching trio.

I'm glad to see the lady has retrieved my C7.

He waits for them to close distance and cool off and let sense reassert itself.

Gents, frankly, I don't care much whether you're in any mood to take any shit from anyone. Not that I'm giving you any grief, but I've just been dragged for miles behind a jeep then some bugger has tried to shoot me while I was hog-tied, after having my unit go to bits out from under me fighting what was left of the Reds. If I don't seem terribly sympathetic to your bad mood, you might understand why.....I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm thirsty, my wrists are burnt bloody, and my legs feel like lead bars. I won't be giving you any shit, but I'm not going to be caring to take much either.

Gary sighs and looks tired and a bit drained....

I just want to get my kit and start the long walk home. You might not have noticed, but its a hell of a lot further home for a Canuck than it is for a Brit or a Scandinavian. And I need a good rest before I try the Atlantic in a Birch Bark canoe....

At that, he smiles at his own dark humour.

Dimitar, no stranger to the use of intimidation, smiles ruefully to himself.
He wonders to himself, Hmmm, it appears that defecting is going to be a little trickier than I thought.

He shows his empty hands briefly to the Dane and Brit before returning them to the steering wheel.  He then gives them another smile.
 If they haven't fired yet, they won't.  I wonder what England is like?

Knowing them to be outgunned, Sergio clambers back out of the UAZ once more after setting his rifle down gently to avoid disturbing the delicate sights. We will not give any trouble to you. We do not wis' to see any more bloods'ed 'ere today. Per'aps we may join with you if we are all going t'e same way, no?

Gallin will show his hands briefly, if the guy can even see him, but immediately goes back to keeping pressure on the wounds that need it. He is beginning to get a little frustrated that the three are closing in, and no one seems to be worried about it. He hates the fact that shooting into the UAZ would be like shooting fish in a barrell. He's not that ready to die yet.

One must always be wary in times like these. only slightly lowering his rifle The Geneva Covention is now nothing more than a pile of paper that is probably lying in a radioactive slag pit some where. indicating behind him I donlt have the rank to allow you to join the group, when the commander gets here its up to him, and will someone bandage the Sergeant, he is making a mess on the jeep. indicating to Sergeant Michael Gallin.

OOC its not mY blood, I'm the medic trying to take care of the wounded. They actually should all be bandaged up enough they shouldn't be bleeding any more.

Seeing that things have cooled down slightly, Dimitar decides to do a little housework.  Getting out of the driver's seat slowly to show he means no harm, he then turns, grabs the dead polish soldier by the boots and drags him out of the cab.

He then spends the next few minutes searching his body and putting various useful items back into the cab.  He immediately puts the PM-63 submachine gun and ammunition back into the passenger seat.

"Where are the f. cigarettes?  I want a smoke." he thinks to himself as he continues his search of the dead soldier's blood sodden clothes.

Is there a hip flask anywhere?
[Private to Nuked: You know that most soldiers carry hip flasks]
This message was last edited by the player at 03:40, Sun 18 Apr 2004.

The Geneva Convention was always more honoured in the breech than the observance, but I happen to still be one of those who believes that life could do with a tad less barbarism. Looking around, and at the mess we've made of the world, don't you think a little civilized behaviour would be a nice change?

Help the Bulgarian get the body out.

Well, we've been introduced to some of this group. Perhaps we should all be on a first name basis. It might make us feel a bit more convivial and less likely to shoot one another. As I said before, Gary Kett, Warrant Officer in the Canadian Forces. Formerly of the Princess of Wales Own Regiment and Royal Military College. Background is infantry and ballistic missile early warning, as well as military history. And my only goal now that anything passing for a nearby NATO command is gone is to get home to my wife. And try to see what sort of mess they've made of the Great White North. You guys?

Don my webgear and pack. Make sure my sleeping bag is lashed onto my pack snuggly.
Take a swig from my canteen.

Damn but it has been a long time since I had a Guiness. I'd probably kiss the first person who could offer me a decent beer.

Bloody poiticians, we should shoot the lot of them for this mess when they crawl out of their bunkers, or where ever they may be. Guido scratches his head and absently looks back towards Don Hmmm..., tempting...better not. with a quick shake of the head.
If we do find a Guiness I'll make sure I pass it to Cam to give to you. (fully aware she cant speak a word of english)
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:15, Sun 18 Apr 2004.

While helping Dimitar drag the body out of the cab, Kett introduces himself.  With a happy nod of the head and a smile, Dimitar says, "Dimitar Nikolov.  Happy to meeting you.  I drive tank.".  Then, with a broad smile, he adds, "Better than car."

After a glance toward his travelling companion Sergio,  "This is Sergio.  I think he is french.  We want to visit america and shake hands with president."

After this, he returns to his search of the dead polish soldier.

The British SAS warrant officer relaxes slightly and lowers his weapon. Lets get away from 'ere and back over to where the others are. That bastard Pole is still lurkin' about 'ere somewhere.
That said, he nudges Dimitar out of the way and climbs into the drivers seat.
Shove it. I'm drivin'.
Anybody not on in the next 5 seconds is walkin'.

No hip flask, try the fuel tank. It runs on alcohol after all.
Dimitar does not find any cigarettes.

The UAZ only seats 5 people total. 2 seats are already spoken for by the shell shocked wounded. Andy is in the drivers seat with Dimitar as shotgun. I'll assume that Gallin has taken the other place to care for the wounded.
More can be squeezed in in a pinch but not very comfortably or for any length of time.
That leaves Dave, Sergio and Kett to either hoof it or cling on to the sides of a moving vehicle as it bumps along across a not very smooth field.

Seeing the situation nearer the UAZ turn less unfriendly and the vehicle begin to move towards her, Tanya reverses her direction and jogs back to her start point.