Collecting the hand radio from inside the building, and grabbing only the bare basics thought necessary, Virgil and Marcus rush after the gang in an attempt to begin trailing them before they disappear completely.
Assisted by the double-edged lack of traffic in the streets, both vehicular and pedestrian, it's still a difficult task to covertly follow the six member group. All it would take at times is for just one of them to look over their shoulders to see one of you crossing an open area unavoidable if you wish to stay in contact with them.
After about half a mile wending their way north west through the streets of Kleparz, the group are spotted entering a barbers shop (makes a fair bit of sense considering the well kept nature of their hair). A thug (not one of the original group) leans against wall beside the door, an old but apparently servicable pump shotgun propped alongside.

Marcus cursed under his breath to himself, wishing for a set of binos right now.  He looked at Virgil and gave him a hand and arm signal to put eyes on the barber shop with his scope.  As Virgil zoomed in for a closer look, Marcus glanced around surveying the surrounding buildings for lookouts and possible vantage points for themselves.

Virgil nodded at Marcus, settled himself in the shadows and uses the sniper rifle's scope to get a better view of the guard and the thug's hideout.

As the city became busier and stall holders opened up for the day, the number of available vantage points shrunk quickly. Trying hard to blend in, the two observers noted several more gang members come and go, all armed with little more than knives and the odd poorly concealed pistol tucked away in belts.

At around 8.00 am, a tired looking soldier armed with a bolt action rifle and carrying a buldging satchel arrives, leaving about twenty minutes later sporting a fresh haircut and his satchel noticably empty...

Virgil looked over at Marcus momentarily and signalled, "Shall we go?"

It would be stupid to outstay their welcome and he would have liked to have seen where sack guy was returning to.

Marcus made note of the location, faces, numbers, and equipment/weapons, or basically a SALUTE report, occasionally scribbling in a notepad with some poorly sharpened pencil.  He did his best to gather all the information and wish he had a camera too.

At Virgil's suggestion Marcus nods and asks for confirmation, "Satchel man?"  Even as Virgil gives an assumed affirmative response Marcus is moving with the intention of tracking the lone satchel man with the fresh cut.

Virgil watched Marcus move off after do boy and then began to make his own way through the growing crowd, ready to switch off with Marcus if the soldier got a little suspicious.

Although standing out like the proverbial sore thumb with all their military hardware and equipment, the two Americans easily tail the Polish solider. The man is obviously looking only to his bed, his feet dragging slightly and he plodds along. Within a few hundred metres he turns into the doorway of a house, fumbles keys from his pocket and enters the abode. The weatherbeaten door swings shut behind with a bang!

Marcus hangs back, quickly sketching a strip map of their route and relevant landmarks.  He looks to Virgil, "What do ya think?  Perhaps we should get some more appropriate clothing and try to blend a little better, get more intel."  He quietly wondered what had been in the satchel, as he was sure Virgil was wondering.  He contemplated a snatch and grab, but that would warrant more of a feeling for the current climate of things, and planning.

"Good idea," Virgil agreed, "let's head back quick, pick up some trade goods, get some plain clothes and get back on the case. I really want to know what they're trading out of there."

Marcus nods in agreement and starts making his way back to the hospital.  There wouldn't be a whole lot to report just yet, but perhaps Virgil and him could get around under some sort of cover.  After all he and Virgil had hung back during the confrontation with the jogging suit thugs, so hopefully that would work to their advantage should they decide to go in u/c.

If you can read this, continue posting here...

The small group makes it's way back under the guidance of Marcus and Virgil to the last observed location of the Polish solier. Besides the street being a little busier as the morning has progressed, nothing new appears to have happened.

The weatherbeaten door the soldier entered through is still solidly closed. No obvious guards are posted but there are a number of passersby in the street going about the daily business.

As they took up observation positions, Virgil said, "We need to know about this guy, Don, do you think you'd be able to schmooze some of the locals for INTEL? I've six eastern cigarettes left you could use to smooth the way."

"Aye. No problem"

Cináed takes the cigarettes and puts them carefully in the pocket of the jacket. He walks closer to the house, and sees if he can find someone living around here, and not just passing.

Marcus nods in agreement with Virgil's plan.  He was liking the Marine Scout/Sniper more and more despite the fact his was rather loquacious.  Marcus looked to see if there was some sort of eatery or cafe nearby where they could observe things.

Virgil went with Marcus to find a good observation point, preferably one that served food...

Being primarily a residential area, finding somewhere unobstrusive like a cafe is harder than expected. Fortunately though across the street is a row of apparently abandonned residences, the former inhabitants presumably having been driven out by the effects of the war. Broken windows and peeling paint along with internal weather damage indicate it's probably been a year or two since the last person called the row of close packed houses home.
Marcus and Virgil find a suitable position just a few dozen metres down the street and soon gain access with the subtle use of a boot to the door. In the meantime, Don seeks out one of the occasional passersby (a few children off on errands or housewives on the way to do the days shopping).

Virgil checked a deserted room out for suitable entrances and exits and went in. He stood at the back of the room, deep in shadow and looking out of the window onto the street where he hoped that Don would schmooze the locals.

Don looks out one of the rascals and approaches him after securing his valuables inside his clothes.

"Hey laddie. Do you live around here?", he asks, in Polish.

The child of around ten years old looks suspiciously at the smooth talking man with a bad accent and cheap suit.
"Maybe..."
The empty wicker shopping basket looped over his arm is a dead giveaway that he can't be far from home.
"You don't though do you?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:24, Tue 09 Dec 2008.

"No, I don't. Very perceptive of you"

He gives the kid a smile.

"I was wondering who's living in that door, over there"

He points at the soldier's house.

Marcus moved with Virgil to clear the small abode, which didn't take too long.  Satisfied for the time being they set up shop just short of one of the exterior street-facing windows.  The two hung back in the shadows making sure not to make themselves too apparent by being too close to the window.  Marcus quickly scanned for fields of fire and coordinated with Virgil should the shit hit the fan.

The kid shrugged and glanced in the direction indicated.
"I dunno. Some family I 'spose."

"Do you hav a friend that knows?"

He picks up one of the cigarettes as if he is about to use it himself. Before the war he wouldn't even think of supplying a kid with cigarettes, but perhaps it could come to some use for him dealing with someone in the environment.

Marcus and Virgil settle in. Although partially looted, there are still a few items of furniture within including a fairly comfortable lounge suite and battered coffee table. Across the way the soldiers building remains quite, the only activity a white curtain blowing in the wind in a 1st floor window.

"Dunno. Maybe," he replies to Don without commitment.
"I gotta go to the grocer. My mother will be mad at me if I'm not back soon."
Dismissing Don from their mind they began to turn away, their mothers wrath obviously more important in their mind than taking to a stranger.

Gathering information on the solider and his activities is likely to take a long time observing the building they entered, or trying again to talk to a local...

Used to long periods of waiting patiently for an opportunity to strike, Virgil settled into a comfortable position and waited.

Don makes a few more tests to get in contact with a neighbour. He strolls to the other side of the area to see if there is anyone at home anywhere.

Marcus was beginning to wonder if this was a dead end.  Although he had patience for the stalk, he also recognized that their time could be better utilized than sitting on the house of some seemingly random Polish soldier.  He wished he could speak directly with the Polish soldier without compromising themselves.  He would wait for now, but their next stop would be the barber shop.  He discussed it with Virgil, "What's your impression broth'a?"

"I agree that the barber shop is the next line we should pursue," Virgil said, "but we haven't exhausted everything here yet. The guy seems low down the food chain of the ORMO, but he'll know if the gang have ORMO protection. I want to take these guys out badly, but not at the expense of having the authorities come down on us like a ton of bricks."

Marcus shrugged, "Hell, maybe we should just knock on the poor bastard's door.  We got something to offer him?"

"Only the stuff I gave to Don to grease the wheels with the locals," Virgil replied, "If Don doesn't get lucky with a civilian soon we'll just have to do that."

Like most of Poland, many of the homes have been abandonned over the course of the war, but unlike much of the country, Krakow was spared the direct ravages of conflict. That isn't to say there's no damage however. A year or more without maintenance has left windows broken, roofs leaking and doors smashed in by looters.
And so it takes Don a few minutes to find somebody who's both willing to talk, and able to provide a little more information than the kid.

"Yes, I know him," the dishevelled, plump woman at the door says, wiping flour from her hands onto her gray apron.
"That's Kazik. He's a good man, helps out in the garden when he's got time away from his work or not doing his required day of service with the milicja. Shame about his wife though. She caught the flu two years ago, right at the beginning of winter when the hospitals were all full of wounded from that dreadful business up at Warsaw and then the radiation sickness of course had them all packed into the corridors. She never had a chance really but then we can't complain ourselves can we, we're still alive I suppose and have to do our best for the children. They're the ones who've suffered the most you know, parents dead from the plague or bombs or crippled or who knows what and it's the children who're left to suffer. But we're lucky here at least we never got bombed except for over at Nowy Huta but that's a few miles downwind so we were alright up until the famine and plagues and riots. That's what when most people left you know, the shops were empty and it was only those of us who'd been growing our own food out of sight that managed to last but even so it was tough. We lost my sister and her two boys to malnutrition just before the army arrived and handed out just enough to last us until the next harvest...."

A full five minutes later and she finally pauses to draw breath...
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:01, Tue 30 Dec 2008.

Marcus peeks out the window from his vantage point seeing that Don has gotten a talker, and quite a talker she seems to be.  Hopefully something useful will come out of her babbling soon.

"Aye, sad to hear, there are a lot of people losing their loved ones. We hope to be able to make a change. We have a little personell close-by and we are trying to help out whenever we can. We are without a lot of resources, but at least a doctor and a nurse.

You don't know if Kazik are having problems with some thugs around here, or if he is involved with them in any other way?"

"Everyone's got problems with the gangs around here. Outside the old city it's mess but it's home so we stay. The army doesnt' do much anymore but they did try in the early days back before all the zbiegi showed up. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands all looking for food and shelter and taking it from whever they wanted. Good thing hardly any of them have guns otherwise we'd have been run out of here too."
She goes on in the same way, her distrust and scorn of the zbiegi plain for even non Polish speakers to understand.
"At least the gangs keep the area quiet provided we've paid our taxes to them for the week. Poor old Kasia across the way couldn't afford it last winter and they burnt her gardens..."
The next few minutes are filled with stories of what happens when the gangs don't get paid, who had what happen to them and how those who are left have come together into a cooperative to ensure the "taxes" are always paid.

[Private to Donnachaidh (2nd Lt): zbiegi can mean either "deserters", "runaways" or "refugees"]

"So. I guess Kazik is also paying tribute then?"

"Or does the ORMO use them to keep the neighborhood quite? Or are they as I guess, a problem for the ORMO?"

"Well," she looks at Don quizzically before continuing.
"That's just what I was saying isn't it? The gangs demand payment for protection the army can't provide to us poor folk left outside the innner city walls. Of course that protection is almost entirely from themselves and the other neighbourhood ruffians."

"Well, I meant that the thugs aren't supported by the military, but I guess not then"

"Aye. I thank you for taking the time. I hope we can meet again sometime. If you have any questions to me, go to the new hospital, and they will know where I am."

After that, he walks back to Virgil and Marcus.

"Well, the ORMO just cares for the inner city and seem to more or less have left the outer to the thugs. I guess if we clear one gang out, other gangs will be on us trying to put us out of business. As it seems, the gangs doesn't have a lot of weaponry, so our starting point isn't too bad. She said that this soldier was a nice lad, so he probably is just paying tribute"

Marcus laughed as a thought occurred to him, "I wonder if we could be the gang." fully expecting his compatriots to understand his meaning.

"Possible," Virgil pondered, "though it might attract too much attention. Another alternative would be to talk to the gang and offer preferential medical treatment in exchange for strong-arming us. If they don't play nice, i vote we waste the bastards."

Marcus shrugs, "Guess I wouldn't want to be around here forever either."

"Or, on the other side, since we are armed we should be able to be able to keep away from taxes at all."

"A good deal with ORMO would be nice. They should have some injured people that need help. That might keep us from being charged from locals, as well."

Edit: Just added colour
This message was last edited by the player at 12:17, Tue 27 Jan 2009.

Marcus growls, "I don't like the idea of kowtowing to any thugs."

"I'm with you, Marcus. Let's try at least to make the best of our little part of the world. In the long term, a little democracy, perhaps? Of course we could discuss our terms with the thugs, and if they don't like it we can force them into it. Not very democratic, but I'm unsure that the thugs understands demorcracy that good"

Marcus snorts, but then what might be mistaken for a smirk flashes across his face, "It might help if the local populace stands up for themselves against these thugs.  It's what we do, or did, so let's find some motivated individuals, train and equip them." as he taps where is SF tab would've been had he been wearing it.

Browns voice comes over the radio, presumably from the clinic.
"Brown to Matterson and Redgrave. Request sitrep. Over."

"Brown it's Redgrave.  Here's the SITREP.  Negotiating with client.  CO reluctant to agree to terms.  Could use some help or another voice here, Break!  Don, this is Tanya do you copy over?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:23, Thu 05 Feb 2009.

"Masterson here," Virgil replied, "continuing to observe ORMO contact with crooks. Looks like it's a dead end. We'll wrap up here and move to see if the thug's base can be safely observed."

He looked at his companions, "Do you think we have anything else to do here or should we move on?"

I think we could walk back again.

"Tell Tanya I'll help her over the Walkie-Talkie if she wants to, otherwise I guess I could be strolling all the way there."

"Roger your last Virge.  How copy on job offer, over?"

"Acknowledged Matterson."
"Redgrave, please expand on job offer. Over."

"We got an offer to do some work to take care of some criminal activity in the newer parts of the city, Dworzec Glowny Rail Station to be specific.  It seemed to me like it was an offer we couldn't refuse, over!"

“Brown, Finnegan, I’m going to send Redgrave, the mechanic and the nurse back to you. They will update you on the details. Tighten up security while she’s on her way.”

"Acknowledged. Do you require the other team recalled? Over."

Confirmed Sergeant Major. Finnegan Out.

"Redgrave to Don, over?"

"Be advised, the commander told me to recall your group in and rendezvous at base, copy that?"

Marcus shrugged as it didn't seem like they were getting anything more from sitting on this site.  He agreed, "Let's roll."

"Roger that," Virgil said as he packed away his gear and readied himself to move.

"Aye lassie. Im coming on my white steed, asap", he says with a smile before the mic is stowed away.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:03, Sun 15 Feb 2009.

During Marcus' check of their little hide, he checked for a back door.  Now would be the time to use it, just in case they were under some sort of counter-surveillance.

A backdoor was easily found, or rather the opening a door once closed. However, exiting the rear of the building would require no small amount of physical effort as only small courtyards serviced each residence, courtyards surrounded by six foot tall walls and fences....

To reach the street by that way would involve climbing over at least half a dozen of these obstacles - possible, but certainly not pleasureable....

On second look Marcus shakes his heads and points to the front door.  If anyone was watching them then I guess there's no workable solution of avoiding being seen leaving.  Marcus just stays on his toes for a fight.

Virgil shouldered his disguised rifle and exited with the others.

"Where to now?" he asked.

"Back...", Don responds and walks out of the door again. He takes a look at who is passing to see if there are any familiar faces keeping their eyes upon him, then he starts the walk back.

The street is almost empty of people, most obviously having headed off to whatever occupation kept them fed, or resting after a long night. A few children ran about and the odd housewife was seen from time to time, returning from the markets with a basket of goods.

The walk back to the clinic passes uneventfully and takes less than ten minutes now you're beginning to get a feel for the outer city...