The BTR is soon roaring out of the warehouse and headed on the road towards the ambush site. About twenty minutes later, Samuels pulls the heavy vehicle up about a kilometre from where it's been judged the ambush occured.
This message was last updated by the GM at 07:26, Fri 30 Sept 2005.

Bernhard picks up one of the unused headsets from the BTR and checks it, making sure it is plugged in and operating properly. Then attempts to contact the recon team,"Romeo PaPa-One this is Hotel Bravo do you copy over? <wfr> We are near your location, and need a sitrep, break. We have the bravo-tango-romeo for support, break. Request meet-up if possible, please advise. OUT.

He attempts to keep it short and concise, hoping the recon team understands the message.

There is a pause for a few moments.

I don't feel comfortable with this situation, the ambush could be ready to spring again.

OOC: How far are we from the route we took into town?

(NAV: 4)

"Romeo-Papa one we will proceed to target area, advise extreme caution, OUT."

Bernhard moves the mic away from his mouth and turns to face the drivers area as best he can in the tight confines of the BTR,"Samuels take us to within 200 meters or so of the site, then the infantry will dismount and proceed ahead of you on foot."

It's the same road you came in on....

Bernhard looks at the others in the BTR with him, checking his AKM as he talks,"When we reach the drop point, I want myself, Miricada, Matterson, and Smith to dismount. Everyone else stay with the vehicle, and Samuels keep it behind us about 100 meters and follow us in."

Matterson gives a thumbs up at the plan and says, "You got it."

Nodding his head Jared swings the vehicle in the indicated direction.  His exhaustion was still thick but it helped to be sitting down.  Soon the truck was headed in the right direction and Jared kept a weary eye on the horizon.  If mortar fire broke out they would have to get away from the vehicle quickly.

It doesn't take very long for the BTR to reach the drop point. The area is lightly forested with scrubby undergrowth along the sides of the road. Having been through this area just the day before, some of you know that on both sides of the road, the ground rises up channeling any traffic along the roadway.
A perfect place for an ambush....

Marcus hops out of the BTR seemingly happy to be free of it's deathtrap-like confines. Always maintaining security he scans his sector before turning to the Major and suggesting, "Do we have a sniper or S-D-M sir? We could set-up an overwatch O-P near the highest point around here."

"That'd be me, although all I got is the AK here," Virgil points out and glances around, trying to pick out a spot to do as suggested anyhow.

Major Finnegan climbs out of the BTR behind Smith and Matterson. Scanning the area he sighs abjectly, muttering under his breath,_{"Damn, I couldn't have picked a worse spot to dismount"} Checking the rise on each side of the road Bernhard tries to determine which side would be better for an ambush, and thus which one they should take. "As much as I like the idea of having a sniper overwatch, I don't think I want to split us up right now. There's only four of us dismounts, so I believe we should stay together. The BTR is our overwatch, and we are their infantry screen. I think we should take the right side, and try to get as high as we can without silhouetting. Matterson, you lead out. Smith second, then me, and Miricada will be tail-end-charlie. If we get in contact, Matterson and Smith are one fireteam, me and Miricada will be the other. Any questions or comments?"

Marcus mutters, _{"I never did like mechanized"} but nods in agreement to the officer. He can't help but add, "BTR's an awfully big and loud target."

Virgil just gives a nod and moves to the right, doing just as ordered, getting as high along the right as he can without silhouetting and also doing his best to keep their path to stable ground. As he moves along at a decent pace, he also does his best to keep his movement quiet and his eyes to the task at hand.

[Private to Major Bernhard Finnegan: Just like to point out that Michelle, Smythe and Don are all capable of pointing a barrel. Besides that, just having a large number on the ground might deter anybody thinking of taking a shot. You could also free Samuels from the drivers job for a few mins and have one of those three take over. Same with Brown.]
The four on the ground shake out into position and lead the BTR into the ambush site.

They had begun to finish or just finished setting up the poor excuse for a perimeter, though with the situation the way it was, there could be no help for it. Cam trusted that the people were good at what they did, frowning as her gaze traveled to the mortar magnet -then to Winters attempting to identify the dead. The frown faded away into a professionally neutral line shortly after.

Training her rifle over the area she was covering, Camilla waited to see if Dave had found anything to confirm her concerns, before even considering approaching the vehicle.  It wasn’t like she could make a report that would come out comprehensible without help, and they needed to keep an eye out.  A half-smile came and went as she eyed those parting company with the machine. “Hmm..”

She didn't plan on moving until Dave had indicated one way or another, though Cam did motion to Winters, “Cover- ”, Her left hand jutted out to indicate a field of fire that might plug up one of the many holes, and let him use his best judgement on the angle that would best suppliment Tanya's spot, at least as long as Dave needed to be mobile for pointing out possible spying spots.

Bernhard sweeps his eyes across the ambush site, taking in as much as he can with a look,"Everyone spread out, set up a perimeter while we get everything sorted out. Sgt. Gallin help Winters check the bodies, I doubt it, but see if anyone survived." He moves over to where he sees Lt. Ashton,"What did your team find? Did you find tracks showing where the ambushers went?"

Winters had removed a few of the ID tags of the dead before he realized that Lt Ashton was speaking to him. He turned to her as she motioned him to cover down on a sector of fire. His mouth was tight and his teeth were clenched as he nodded to her knowing what he must do. He moves past the pile of bodies to a spot that he had unconsciously picked out earlier that had a little cover and concealment from a downed tree. Still a professional he oriented his weapon in an area with an overlapping arc of fire with SFC Redgrave. He stuffed the few tags he had retrieved into his hip pocket quielty cursing the ambushers, _{"Sons of bitches"} before devoting his attentions to pulling security.

In passing, she paused letting a hand come to rest on Aaron’s shoulder, squeezing once tightly with tired fingers before letting her hand fall away. Camilla crossed to Finnegan, nodding curtly and thankful for the added security..   If there was enough coverage she’d  let Winters get back to the tags.. His call.

At his question, Cam tilted her head toward Tanya’s position.   Which was somewhat arbitrary as Redgrave had been able to talk for her for the most part lately, “Lost trail of Slavers in water, found mine field.. Walk back, then..  This.”

Lieutenant Ashton talked as she walked, unaware as yet as to what Tanya had located, but would lead the Major there for clarification of Cam’s horrible English.  She might not have looked it, but Camilla was upset about the loss as well.  This column could have been a way home.  And now..

Seeing Lt Ashton gesture to Sgt Redgrave, Bernhard follows Camilla to see what Tanya has found. He shakes his head and sighs as they make their way around the kill-zone, saddened at the complete destruction of the small column.



[Private to Nuked: 17:53, Today: Secret Roll: Major Bernhard Finnegan rolled 7 using 1d10. Rolling against tracking of 2. Seeing if I could make anything out of the tracks Tanya found ]

Take a look here Major!  They head off in roughly that ddirection there.  It's definately a PACT tracked vehicle of some sort, nothing heavy though.  Maybe a BMP or a light tank.

Bernhard nods at Sgt Redgrave, dropping to one knee to get a better look at the tracks. He looks in the direction they lead, trying to get his bearings on where the ambushers may be going next.

Sitting in the BTR Brown scans the area for any signs of hostile activity.  His own AK kept in an up and ready position.  The whole idea of sitting here just didn't sit well with him.  Grumbling a bit under his breath he looks to Samuels.

"Be ready to get this thing moving if trouble erupts.  If we're moving it'll make us harder to hit."

Despite knowing that he had stated the obvious he still wanted to make sure the other man knew just how dangerous of a predicament they could wind up in should they sit still too long.

Michelle will make sure she double checks the bodies, and grabs any tags that might have been missed. Always aware of her surroundings, she hurries back to the BTR after the task is done, shaking quietly with rage and sadness. Fellow Americans. Someone would dearly pay, somehow.

Nodding his head in agreement with Brown's suggestion.  Knowing that there was no need for words Jared keeps his eyes on the horizon and his ears open.  Part of him was glad that he had been left in the vehicle as his fatigue still had yet to wear off and this gave him the best excuse to not appear like he was as fatigued as he was.

Marcus moves along fighting what fatigue he has left in him, remaining alert and ready to fight.  When he approaches the recon group some sort of tension seems to leave his shoulders as he takes up a security position to overwatch the Major as he gets the quick sitrep.  He glances around making sure that all the other members of their ragtag band are covering proper sectors, including their six.

Guido starts to check to obvious place from which the ambush was sprung.

A single shot from a high powered weapon rings out near Matteson. It is not followed by another nor is anyone hit.

hit the ground moving for cover, obs

Matterson ducks down and moves for cover, throwing a quick panning gaze as he moves for the best cover he can locate on short notice.

After a few moments of scanning as he moves, he calls back, "Looks like we got a friend. Got a dead Russian up here, looks like he's was the commie sniper on the ambush," and he makes an indication into the tree, and continues to stay under the best cover he can manage.

"Our friend has a heavy rifle," he adds after a second. And continues to try and pick out the sniper with brief glances over his shoulder and around his cover.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:36, Wed 17 Aug 2005.

Bernhard, already on one knee, raises his rifle too his shoulder and scans in the direction the tracks lead before turning to where the shot came from.

As the shot rang out, Camilla practically fell to the ground.  The last strains of the echo fell away as she peered through the damaged foliage.  Her heart raced as she held still, just listening to the sounds around her.   At the mentioning of the dead Russian, her brain began ticking away.  Could it be?

First, as she propped herself up, Cam’s gaze sought out confirmation of those on the ground, her group came first, even though spotting them might have been somewhat difficult in certain cases. Ashton also caught herself scanning the roadway with a measure of concern she hadn‘t expected.

Being close to the major, Cam whispered lightly “If no bad people.. There is secret?.. No..  eem unkno?..  Un- *sigh* Sniper missing. -From village where we help you..  Sniper help us, we not see..”  It was frustrating not being able to say exactly what she meant. “Not sure it them..”   It was a possibility, even though remote.  Still Cam wasn’t going to bet her life on it. Though it made sense. Something like this was liable to attract a lot of attention.. And since there wasn’t anything here.. “I think we need go soon.”

Guido pondered and had a dumb thought 'most of us are in ruski uniforms, do we have a survivor? shame if I see him his dead'.

Bernhard cocks his head at Lt. Ashton,"One got away from the village?" He tries to decipher her meaning, and continues scanning.

Sitting in the BTR Brown jumps at the sound of fire and crouches down to get as much cover as possible.  Raising his AK he keeps a weary eye out for trouble as he looks to Jared and then to the others.

"Keep an ear out and an eye open for mortar fire."

With no more than that he lowers himself down in his seat and motions for the others to get down as well.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:52, Sat 20 Aug 2005.

Being close to the ground or already laying down on it made no difference to Tanya, she tried to get lower.  You couldn't get low enough with a sniper around.  She will try to take a look around to see if she can tell where the shot came from, if possible.

The seconds tick by....

Nobody moves...

Only Matterson and Dave have so far actually seen the now very dead body. Everyone else has gone to ground and stayed there.

Mortar rounds do not scream death from the sky and no more shots ring out.

A whole silent minute goes by....

[Private to Sergeant Virgil Matterson; Staff Sgt Dave Guido: The radio the body has fallen over is making a noise. Sounds like somebody is talking on the other end but neither of you can identify the language let alone understand what is being said.]

Slight creases formed on her brow as she motioned vaguely in the direction she had heard Masterson’s voice.. “What he said,  friend..  Sniper at slave camp, help us when we help you. We not find.” Naturally Camilla was keeping her tone low as she spoke, though it wasn’t too long past that silent minute that she picked herself up  and  glanced around with her rifle lowered.

“We need go back Camp yes?..”, While still hesitant about being up there and target-like, Cam rolled out the stiffness in her shoulder, taking a steady breath as she sought the others.

"Can someone that speaks um.. Russian come up here?" Virgil calls back towards the others, his AK against his shoulder and his head still peeking around to try and pick out the sniper from time to time. Never staying long enough for a good shot though- especially from sniper distance.

“Or we look Russian thing..”,  Of course Ashton didn’t speak Russian, so  she probably wouldn’t have been of much help anyway.  Taking stock of who might be on hand, she attempted to recall those that spoke Russian off hand, but- wasn’t entirely sure who all was about…  Besides, they could answer for themselves.  Though, when they had arrived, it was growing dim.  Twilight was upon them again it seemed,  dusk with its ways and its shady gloom.

Cam cut a glance down toward the road-way again trying to catch sight of something or someone, before nodding to the Major.. “You want I stay here with Team, while you go Russian?  Have Orders for us?.. Dave looking for bad people places”

Marcus pops his head around from his scanning as the question about Russian speakers is posed. He calls back to Matterson, "Russian for what?"

Winters points to the dead Russian in the tree, "How the f**k didn' we see that a**hole before?" He throws out, "I think we got a couple o' minutes of reprieve, mos' snipers re-position after a shot, unless his hide is that damn good." Adding quietly, "'Sides, don' think he was gunnin' fer us."

Staying low in his seat Jared looks cautiously over the steering wheel.  Snipers were the one thing that sucked more than all others.  As Brown spoke of mortar fire Jared nodded and muttered something about a close second...

"There's a radio squawkin' in Russian up here," Matterson says and hooks a thumb over his shoulder.

Bernhard looks to Lt. Ashton and nods,"Stay here while I figure out whats going on."

Finnegan then makes his way to the BTR-80,"Don, Zhukov, with me, Samuels take over the gunner position while Zhukov is away, and Sgt Gallin if you could, drive this beast if it needs to move. Don I may need you to help translate anything Zhukov hears over the radio, my Russian isn't as good as it should be. Since he doesn't have a western accent, he will use the radio Matterson is hearing if we need to respond."

Without waiting for a response from the BTR-80, Bernhard begins moving to Matterson's position. keeping low, and zig-zagging as he goes.

Michelle nods as she moves to the drivers seat, glancing out the windows the best she could. she didn't like the fact her people were out there, but she was at least able to help out if something went down. Silently, she actually hoped there were no  more wounded. they just didn't have the supplies. Although, finding a nice cashe of bandages and med suplies was too much to ask for in these times anymore.

Glad to be of some use but a little insulted that he wasn't trusted enough to translate without somebody checking, Zhukov clambered out of the gunners seat and out the door of the BTR-80. The RPK-74 cradled in his arms looked small in the big mans grasp as he jogged after the major in company with Don. As usual he didn't say much.

The trio cross the few dozen metres at a trot and arrive at the location of the body and radio. The bloodied man was dressed in Soviet army uniform and seated in a shallow depression overlooking the kill zone of the ambush. He is unshaven, dirty and looks to be in his mid twenties.

An AK-74 lies beside him and a map is spead across his legs. He is in excellent concealment from the road. From the disturbance to the leaf litter around him and a few scraps of food (apple cores, etc) tossed a few metres away, it is clear that he has been there for at least several hours. A small hole is in the back of his head and the forehead is nothing but a gapping ruin. obviously he was hit by a single high powered projectile from the rear.

A radio is underneath his body and a very quiet voice is coming from it questioningly. The handset is still held in his lifeless grasp. The volume of the radio is set too low to hear from more than about a metre away. Whoever this person was, they really didn't want to be detected.

There is no sign of the shooter but it can be assumed that they are not part of your group - the shot had to have come from the trees further from the roads edge. Meanwhile the rest of your team have taken up positions in all round protective cover - somebody facing each direction. Dave is the only one still still roving about searching for clues while Matterson is the closest of your troops besides the trio of Russian speakers (Don, Zhukov and Finnegan).

[Private to Donnachaidh (2nd Lt); Major Bernhard Finnegan; Nikolai Alekseyev Zhukov: Whoever lifts the handset to listen hears a Russian voice asking for confirmation of the fire mission. They do not sound very keen to fire without it.]

Major Finnegan picks up the handset and listens for a moment, then hands it to Zhukov,"Tell them to cancel the fire mission. Make something up about seeing things, or whatever you think sounds convincing." The Major then looks to Don,"Make sure he understands what I said, my Russian isn't all that good." Bernhard begins going through the dead soldiers things, taking everything useful. He picks up the map and studies it, hoping to find information about their enemies' location and disposition.

Nikolai takes the handset reluctantly but puts it down without speaking into it.
"Нет, улучшает для того чтобы не поговорить. Мой акцент мог быть по-разному к его."[Private to Donnachaidh (2nd Lt); Major Bernhard Finnegan: "No, better not to speak. My accent might be different to his."]
In the world as it is, high value ammunition such as artillery shells or mortars are not often fired without final confirmation. It is rare for units to be adequately supplied.
"Улучшайте препятствуйте им думать там будет radio недостатком."
[Private to Donnachaidh (2nd Lt); Major Bernhard Finnegan: "Better to let them think there is a radio fault."]

Cam listened to Smith’s response, watching him intently for a time, then nodded to Major Finnegan. “Yes sir.”, She sank back into the vegetation, casting a glance toward Tanya, then Winters with a quiet bob of her head..  Camilla picked out a spot  to watch and waited. Ashton was tired, having trekked across the country side fairly much all day, but there was enough tension in the air to keep her going.  Resting the barrel of her rifle over something solid, a rock, branch, dead-fall what-have-you, Cam thumbed the lip of her helmet upward and huddled in against the stock, hoping things went smooth and fast.

The field is littered with debris from the looting, mostly torn articles of clothing, broken truck parts and equipment, empty boxes and a few discarded shell casings missed by the scavengers. Footlockers stuffed with papers have been dragged from the trucks, opened and rummaged through in a ruthless search for valuables.
Marks are found at several points in within the woods to show where a large force had set up machineguns to sweep the road in a crossfire.
On the opposite side of the site to the radio and it's dead operator, a moaning sound is heard in the woods....
Tanya and Winters are the closest to this location with Cam not much further...

Winters looks to the area where the source of the "moans" might be thinking to himself survivor? He looks over to Lt Ashton and SFC Redgrave nodding his head in that direction. Without waiting for an order he begins to move slowly, and quietly as possible in the general direction of the sound, moving in a flanking arc.

Cam’s gaze cut toward the sound of motion, she thought she might have herd a sound previously, but Winters movement cinched it.  At his expression when their eyes met, Ashton nodded once, even though he probably didn‘t get the chance to see it. She’d rather not have the support weapon left hanging, but they were also covering corners so-to-speak, and he was a big boy.

“Maybe send Medic?”, Cam leaned to her left cutting a glance at Tanya, then peered in the direction that Winters went before eyeing the road. “I wait for confirmation.” She sighed slowly.

Tanya shrugs her head 'no' when Cam looks to her the first time to see if she has seen or heard anything.  She goes back to scanning the area when she hears the moaning coming from nearby.  Tanya nods at him to go ahead and that she would follow behind.  Tanya leans into Cam, Yes ma'am, you might as well send for 'em now.  I'll follow Winters in.  I swear I heard moaning too!

Bernhard nods his head to Zhukov, and continues checking the dead man for anything useful,"That plan is better than mine. Keep listening for any change in tone that Don or I might miss." He takes the radio and hands it to Zhukov,"Take this for now, I want you to keep listening for information, hopefully they let slip something about their position, or movement plans." He takes one last look at the map, then stows it in one of his pockets. After taking everything of value off the corpse, he turns to where Sgt. Matterson is,"Did you see any sign of the shooter? Or do we just have a silent guardian angel?"

Cam pointed to Tanya with a slight nod, “no forget radio if need.” She called after in a low tone, then  glancing from side to side briefly Ashton slid down from her spot, moving close enough to the road to get someone’s attention. She had remembered Smith’s last position clearly enough, so angled it that way trying to keep low.

“Pssst!  Smith,  Psst.” Announcing herself as she drew nearer in the gloom. Camilla’s light eyes searched for any sign of him on the approach.  “Maybe.. need Medic..  Maybe live one.”

"My personal opinion is that this is the same one who was helping us out earlier," Matterson replies and continues to sit behind his tree. "But if so, I don't know why they haven't shown themselves, seems like a lot of work to keep playing this overwatch game when they could come out and get their food and a place to sleep."

He glances over his shoulder and says, "I could go look for him," he pauses, "Or her, if you wanted. Talk 'em into coming with us, maybe."

He pauses again.

"They might have a nice rifle if nothing else," he notes grimly.

A short search later and a badly wounded man is found amonsgt some particularly thick underbrush. From the signs, it is evident that he dragged himself there after being hit during the attack. He is conscious but has lost a great deal of blood and is extremely weak. Somebody will have to crawl in after him and drag him out - an act that could possibly even kill him...

"No, I dont know if that would be a good idea. Just keep your eyes open, maybe us knowing they are there will help us find them if they do this again."

Bernhard heads over to where the wounded man has been found.

Marcus' voice in a low-tone seems to come out of no where, "Lieutenant" before he appears out of the nearby brush almost as if the shadows themselves created his form. He nods at her mention of medic, "I'll help" and then adds, "Doc Gallin is in the BTR too." He motions with his left hand for her to show the way.

She studied him as he seemed to melt into view.  Cam’s gaze searched the flicker of light that glinted off the depths of his eyes just long enough.  “If survivor, Wound maybe bad..  Get Gallin, we meet here. Then go.” Her words didn’t need to indicate the importance of time, She knew he understood that already, though  Ashton’s whole presence seemed to be hesitant of late..  Uncertain.  Gamble this gamble that..  Her lips pursed into a thin line, angry at the circumstance.

(Depending upon the situation), she’d turn silently, and move back along the line up to where she had last seen Winters and RedGrave vanish. If Gallin could come all the better, but if not, at least there was an attempt. Either way she’d lead Smith to her companions.))

Tanya follows Winters up to where the moaning is coming from and the body is found in the underbrush.  Taking a quick look around to see if there's an easy way in, she turns to Winters, Well, it's either you or me going in for 'em!  I might be able to get in their easier but, I may need a hand getting him out.  I don't want to kill him tryin' neither.  Any suggestions?

The sounds drifting down from the brush and the hill, not too terribly far off, caused Cam to shift her Attentions. Her cool gaze speared past Smith toward the vehicle and with a tilt of her head she strode forward with purpose. “With me. Need light,  and maybe tool and Med-kit..”, Her words were clipped though not without concern as she walked up to the side looking for a hatchet, machete, or something that could be useful for clearing a spot.  Which would be helpful if quarters were cramped in the shrubbery.

“We go up, Tanya have radio.. If need. It not far.” Which she indicated with a slight jut of her head toward the moaning that wafted in from that out there. Providing she found something, Camilla would look to see when and if Smith had what he would need, and then they could follow the sounds up.

Marcus cooly watched Cam as she made her decision. He simply walked with her up to the BTR. He lightly knocked on one of the crew hatches along the side and spoke into one of the gun slits, "Doc, we're going to need you. See if there's some kind of hatchet or tool to clear brush in there." He quickly surveyed the exterior with Cam looking for a tool with a quick glance out of the corner of his eye at Cam, just to see how she was holding up.

Winters frowns at the obstruction of the brush. He holds his hand up, "Wait, le' me check fer booby traps." He systematically and intently scans the brush for signs of wires or devices of any kind. Finding nothing he suggests, "I say we try to cle'r some o' this brush her' and work on 'im a bit before movin' 'im. He looks bad." He pulls out his knife and attempts to hack his way through the brush.

Right! Tanya says as she reaches down for a knife and realizes that she has none!  When they reared up after being captured, she had to take what she could get.  Now, it was coming back to haunt her.  How could she forget to grab a knife or a bayonet, or something?  Tanya goes into the brush trying to clear some of the branches on the bottom where the figure crawled in byb breaking them.

Michelle nods grimly and grabs the medkit and rummages around for a machete or bayonet or anything to hack at brush that would be useful. She takes a quick lok around her as she steps from the BTR and cautiously heads towards the wounded.

Once the man has been located and tools retrieved from the BTR, it only takes a minute or two to clear a path through the scrub for a medic. Michelle is natually the best person for the job and so scrambles in as soon as possible. It's immediately evident that he is not likely to survive more than an hour or two.

“Schaeffer, Frederick L... Lieutenant,” the man manages to say. “Mission ... mission accomplished... almost. Operation ... R-Reset. Got that? Reset. Got to get them through...”

The Lieutenant's story comes out in bits and pieces. He frequently lapses into delirium, but is better able to speak as he is made more comfortable, and especially if a character with Medical skill is able to treat him for shock (stop his bleeding, keep him warm and his feet elevated, and give him him IV fluids, if any are available) and pain (administer pain reliever, if available).

His unit is, or rather was, a B team of the US 20th Special Forces Group. At first, all that the characters are able to understand is that Schaeffer's unit was carrying something of vital importance, that their unit immediate destination was Krakow, and that they were ambushed by marauders with the aid of a traitor.

“It was that damned Cutler,” Schaeffer says. “Sergeant Cutler. He ... he led us ... right into a trap. He was with the Captain in the lead Hum-Vee, and they didn't fire on him. He was with them when they rounded up the prisoners. Like he was in charge. He was with them when they marched us over to the woods...”

Schaeffer had been among those captured by the marauders, who he says numbered between 50 and 100. The prisoners had been led to the edge of the woods, herded together, then machinegunned. Schaeffer had been hit, but managed to crawl into the underbrush, his escape concealed by the fall of his comrades. He'd lain hidden in the underbrush while his friends were massacred, stayed hidden while the vehicles were stripped and the bodies looted. He'd lain there, his wounds draining him, until he'd seen the characters' arrival and managed to get their attention.

“Listen to me," he says with a desperate, burning intensity. “This is Operation Reset. Got it? Reset. We were carrying vital plans. Blueprints. Films. All the way from Lodz. They're all there ... I don't think they got them. Can't let them get lost. DIA needs that stuff ... bad ... real bad...”

Michells nearly falls back on her backside and tries desperately to  keep the man alive just a little bit longer. A reset? she thinks to herself. COuld the american forces possibly have regrouped and have a plan formed to end this insanity? or at least get a good upper hand. For the grace of the Gods above she hoped so. Working quickly but carefuly, she does all she can to get at least one litte bit of peace to the Lieutennant before he expires. Leaning in close, she grasps his hand, and promises him she will do her American best to see the operation to its fruition.

Schaeffer manages a weak grin. “Damnedest things you ever saw. Crazy ... Y'know. Used to have one when I was a kid ... got it for Christmas ... one year. They sure don't make 'em like that anymore!" He begins to laugh, then lapses into a coughing fit which leaves him weaker and bleeding from his nose and mouth. It subsides, and he continues. “Listen, you've got to get the papers. They got the ... the things ... the prototypes ... but I don't think they got the papers. That's what's important ... the papers! Raiders didn't know ... about the papers. Everybody'll want ‘em... DIA ... CIA ... KGB even. Got to get them ... get them to ... they'll pay...”

Schaeffer dies, leaving you more confused than ever. There are many papers lying in the field where the wind has blown them. Apparently they were scattered by the marauders who broke open footlockers and cartons filled with them in search for loot.

The rapidly growing darkness and the threat of a thunderstorm on the horizon means time is now short to find what he was talking about. A choice must be made - risk losing the valuable papers to water and wind, or use every available light you have and potentially attract hostile forces?
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:36, Mon 29 Aug 2005.

Dettingers voice calls from the radio without warning around the same time as the Lieutenants death.
"Sentry to all. Vehicles near camp. One BMP, two light still trucks with trailers, one UAZ with towed mortar, one school bus with large trailer. Heading south on main road at speed. Estimate minimum two dozen soldiers. No imminent danger. Out."

Wishing to become a target, Guido quickly starts rounding up the paper, "Shame it is not soft or it could have some other use than to start fires" thinking back to the luxury of indoor plumbing.

Now that the Leutennant is dead, Michelle looks quickly around and sighs. "We better get those papers. Then get out of here and get them to someone. Maybe end this war. What do you all think."

Tanya does the sign of the cross as the Lieutenant expires in front of her and the others along with his cryptic message.  She half laughs at Michelle's comment about ending this war, End this war Michelle?  If it ended it, that means we could go home, since it's over, right?  The war's over in my mind, now it's just survival of the fittest.  As long as you got weapons and ammo, you can get anything you need!  I'm not talking about marauding, don't get me worng but, militarily, would you still take orders to take that hill over there if we ran into a general?  Think about it!  Tanya appears to be getting very frustrated as she continues on.  It appears that all over her 20+ years in the army is coming to a boil right now.

Guido will casually skim thouth some of the papers as he picks them up.
OCC:

With 20+ years of brainwashing you probably would.

Michelle shoots a piercing gaze at Tanya.
 "If there is an organized U.S. Military left out there, and that is what it takes to bring order to this current Chaos we call life, then yes. Just because a government system falls apart doesn't mean that in your heart and mind it no longer exists. I fight for the hope that WE can end this, and help return the world back to a semi peaceful place, where my freedoms can still be lived freely without harassment from others. I am pretty sure that if you ask any of those simple Non military people who run for cover out of fear every time people come down the road, that if they thought that the military could return semblance of security and peace to thier lives, they would want them to do it. I'm pretty sure they would not want us to just take what we want and move on because we have guns and they don't." She looks back down at the Lieutennant. He still believed. I still believe. The only difference between him and me, is I'm still alive to carry on his hope. If you have hope, you have everything." Making sure to take his dogtags, Michelle gathers up the med supplies and any of the papers that are nearby.

"No matter what your feelings are about the general situation of the world, I think we can all agree on one thing. We need to get out of here, and quick. I'd like everyone to pick up as many of these papers as we can, then we are going to load up and head back to town. Has anyone ever heard of project reset?" Without really waiting for an answer Bernhard begins gathering any papers he can find in the growing darkness. "Winters? you have the recon team radio right? Could you contact Dettinger and tell them to keep their heads down 'til the convoy passes?"

It's all greek to Dave.... ;)
It'll take somebody with skill in whatever language it is in to know what the papers are all about. Most of the papers do have a common header though - "Universytet Łódzki" and this stamp:
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:50, Thu 01 Sept 2005.

Shrugging in resignation, Zhukov takes the radio and slings it over his shoulders. The wounded man is found then, so rather than stand about while Don, and Finnegan search the body, he heads over to led whatever aid he can.

The radio squawks a couple more times and then goes quiet...
"Nothing to be worried about," he says in reply to any questions. "They think radio problems."

Zhukov is close enough to hear the dying mans last words. "Reset? Is something do to counters?"
The rapidly approaching dark and the mention of somebody, anybody, paying for the papers spurs Zhukov to help gathering them as they blow on the wind. He heads directly for the greatest concentration of them - near the stripped truck hulks, scrounges around for a container and piles sheath after sheath of them inside.

Tanya returns the gaze back Michelle, Look around you Michelle, this has been over!  It's going to be a long time berfore there's an semblence of a true government coming out of anywhere.  It's going to be nothing but warlords and marauders setting up in areas and trying to control as much as they possibly can.  It would be real nice if someone could come along and help take away the fears of the people, take away all of the unnecessary killing, take away the poverty, disease, and starvation.  The last story I read that something like that happened started with, "Once upon a time" and ended with "Happily ever after!"  If there's a difference to be made, you're going to need a lot more proof than just some papers blowing around a field.  Christ, even the Lieutenant mentioned something about payment?  Nothing is free any more Michelle!  How many more of us are supposed to die to get this 'Reset' going?  Ain't no sense in arguing about it anyway, I'll just start picking this shit up and dealing with it.  Maybe we can get some good ass paper from this stuff if 'Reset' doesn't pan out for us!  Tanya goes along with the others and gathers up what papers she can find.

Michelle smiles to herself slightly and shakes her head. Fantasy? maybe. her momma always told her she needed to get her head out of the clouds and feet back on the ground. Looking back over her shoulder, she picks up another piece of paper. "In case you missed it, He said they had the prototype too. They didn't know about the papers. maybe us "Marauders" could go steal it from those marauders and we get money for it instead and make the world a better place while we are at it. then we will both be happy." She takes a look at the seal and would recognize Polish immediately.
"Or, if the war is so over for you, why do you still wear the uniform? If you don't believe in the semblance of any military, or have any loyalty to the U.S. that you swore to defend to your death if need be, why wear their clothes? Lot less likely to be shot of you are a farmer than a soldier."

Major Finnegan picks up a few more pages and places them in one of the footlockers found at the ambush site. Finishing this he looks to the arguing women,"Look, any other time I'd be willing to watch a catfight. Hell I'd pay for it, and place wagers on it, but not here, and not today. You're both right, the army we belonged to doesn't exist the way it was. Even civilization the way it used to be doesn't exist. But as long as we still wear the uniform we have a duty, no correct that. We have a moral imperative to help the helpless. Don't get me wrong, I want to get home as much as everybody else. That doesn't mean we can't at least try to get these plans for whatever-the-hell Project Reset is to someone that knows what to do with them." He finishes securing a few more pages in the footlocker,"Can anyone read this? It looks Polish to me, but I'm not positive."

Michelle instantly recognises the stamp as the official logo of the University of Lodz. It only takes her a second or two more to skim over the page. It (and many like it) are easily identified as records, personnel forms and requistions from the University of Lodz.

Searching about reveals one footlocker which is different. It is still aboard one of the trucks, opened and rummaged through, but the contents have not (yet) blown all over the field. These papers include what are obviously electrical wiring diragrams, hundreds of them, in sheaf upon sheaf, all carefully labelled and annotated (in Polish), together with several loose leaf folders crammed with hand written notes. The notes are highly technical, describing modular components for an extremely complex peice of electrical equipment. The papers include a bound volume of blueprints, again of electrical wiring diagrams and curcuitry, and several exposed rolls of 35mm film. A leather Nikon camera case remains in the truck, but the camera has been taken.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:52, Thu 01 Sept 2005.

Winters shakes his head as he picks up the radio handset from SFC Redgrave and relays the message asked of him by the Major. Unsure of the callsigns he makes one up hoping the BTR crew will catch on, >>"Victor One, this is Romeo Papa, be advised per da six, keep yer heads down an' allow da convoy to pass, over."<<

Marcus helps SGT Gallin as much as he can with stablizing and making comfortable his fellow 'long tab'. He tries his best to assure the dying Lieutenant that he will carry out the mission, mostly to comfort him. Assured that the others will search for the papers mentioned Marcus sets himself on the task of burying the now deceased Lieutenant.

"You relise if you break his legs and fold them over you only have half the digging."

[Private to Nuked: I know how sensitive these people are, just thought I would get in early.
If anybody is upset by this, Lt Ferry was the one who had told me on one training exercise, blame the 'Army']

Comming out of the vehicle to help gather paperwork...

"I know a thing or two about electronics, mind if I have a look?"

Elec: 4

Major Smythe takes a sheaf of the papers and looks them over in the rapidly darkening conditions.
[Private to Major Richard Smythe: No idea whatsoever. Definately some sort of electronics but it's all gibberish as far as you can tell. Might help if you could read the notes written in Polish but probably not (rolled the check for you - catastrophic failure. Might as well be the Argentine national anthem to you.)]Perhaps it's the lack of light but he can not make head nor tails of it.
This message was last updated by the GM at 16:39, Fri 02 Sept 2005.

"We go back now, yes?" It had to be that footlocker full of technical papers that the Lieutenant had meant. What else was there besides worthless requisition orders and outdated personnel files? Besides, the light was fading fast and the storm was nearly upon them. No need to stay out in it longer than needed although the bodies should all be buried before they left - it was the decent thing to do.

RPG - Lumper looks as the group down there continues to move around, and to discuss, they do that alot, they talk too much and act too few he thinks.

Now, how to appear without getting shooted at, and most importantly without losing any of the stuff I have to the group. Lumper tries to find something that resembles a white flag, If he finds it he will tie it to the end of a pole and wave it vigorously to make sure it is seen before putting his head out, He will then present himself in English as 'Feldwebel Dieter Lumper, Bundeswehr, Federal Intelligence Service'...

OOC - Surprise, surprise...

Marcus ignores Guido's asinine comments and quickly completes the task of burying his comrade-in-arms. He picks up his gear and weapon as he heads over to Major Finnegan. He curtly asks, "Got the papers sir? Not waiting for an answer he states matter-of-factly, "We should go."

Bernhard nods to Marcus,"I think we got all the papers we can for this project 'reset'. Now to get everyone sorted out, and head back to town."


Hearing Dieter's announcement before seeing him, Bernhard raises his AKM and scans 'til he catches the German's form appearing in the twilight shrouded forest"Who are you, and where the hell did you come from? Come down here and keep your hands where we can see them. Were you a part of this convoy?" Bernhard waits 'til the man gets closer before firing off any more questions.

Lumper understood by the tone of the questions that an immediately friendly contact was out of question. He decided not to be tossed around. So he stood firmly where he was still carrying his 'white flag'.

Will move near if you put gun down. I've not any gun pointed at you.

Bernhard lowers his rifle half-way,"OK then we compromise, I won't aim at you, and you can get a bit closer."

Lumper felt that this was a good sign, he moved to about half the distance he was before.

Good. Can I join your group?...

OOC - His English is pretty basic.

Bernhard lowers his rifle the rest of the way once Dieter gets close enough to be seen a bit better. "Yeah, sure, you can tag along. Hell thats all most of us seem to be doing. Got any friends out there with you?" Bernhards motions to the BTR with his rifle, "Ride in the BTR-80 'til we get everything settled."


"I think we need to be loading up and leaving now. Damn, probably been to long here as it is. Load the papers up in the BTR-80, and get it turned around. Recon team take point on the left side of the road sweeping for ambushes. Smith head out with them, Matterson, Samuels, Miricada, Brown and Myself will sweep the right side. Sgt. Gallin, if you could keep driving the BTR, Zhukov can stay gunning, Smythe in the turret with Zhukov, and Don dismount, but stay close to the BTR watching for mines or traps they may have set before heading back through town. Also Zhukov, if I could have that radio back, thanks." When he finishes, Bernhard translates the essential parts into what little German and Russian he knows.

Lumper takes a minute to reply.

No. No friends. Thanks you I will get into the BTR. Where are we going?

Virgil comes down out of the treeline after having sat there, waiting for the sniper to take their next shot that he could triangulate them. But they never did, and he has decided they either moved on, or weren't lookin' for his people. Just as he gets within range, he hears the next set of orders and starts off.

The few thousand metres or so back to the warehouse takes just a bit longer than expected and a few bucket loads of sweat. About three hundred yards short of it's destination the engine coughs, splutters and dies, totally out of fuel. Even on the realitively flat roadway, over ten tonnes of metal takes a bit of muscle power to move....

Finally it's parked back undercover inside the building, where it's found that two of the civilians have rigged up a camp shower down in the loading dock. Straws are drawn, soap (from the buildings washroom) is distributed and bodies are cleaned for the first time in weeks (months even for some). Most of the water reserves are used up but it's a price that all are willing to pay. An hours work with a few pack horses and jerrycans in the morning will rectify that anyway.

The evenings exertions highlight the critical need for fuel. Your still at maximum output creates only 35 litres per 24 hours. The BTR-80 burns over 60 litres of ethanol in only one hour - even more if the more common (and easier to make) methanol is used. At best, that one 24 hours fuel production will move you (conditions being ideal) approximately 20 kilometres - barely to the next village. Obviously this situation is untenable and something must be done.

The fuel position would be much, much worse if the BRDM-2 didn't have a supply of gasoline to use but even that will run out sooner than you may wish - only 440 litres remains. A veritible fortune really at over US$48 per litre and if it could be found (compare that with the price we are paying now to fill our cars! An entire 220 litre barrel of crude oil is selling for about US$60?).

That 440 litres is enough for most to kill for - a resource like that could get the BRDM over 1000 kilometres - well into western Europe and possibly even down to Spain! Such a shame that the BTR-80 cannot use it too...

So what are the choices?
1. Abandon the BTR-80 and its tremendous load carrying capacity.
2. Attempt harnessing the horses to pull it (very difficult since you have no harnesses, proper skills to do it and a vehicle that simply isn't designed for it).
3. Sit about and wait the required 8 and a half days for a tankfull (that will only get you 190 kilometres on road or an abysmal 48 kilometres offroad).
4. Find somebody to trade with.
5. Find somebody to take it from. (These last two may be difficult in such a devastated and sparsely populated area as you find yourselves).

Another problem that complicates matters are the civilians who are now reliant on your group for food, shelter and protection. While of some use, they are also a constant drain on your resources - food and medical in particular. The good news is that most want to leave as soon as they can and head back to their home town of Zyardow, around 40km to the southeast.

Now that Michelle is back in the town, she still wants to go to the area school and see if she can scrounge up stuff needed to make antibiotics and makeshift med supplies. There has to be a chemisty/science room there.