"If he isn't happy, it is wise to stay alert," said Smoker, looking round suspiciously. Never happy out in the open, he looked up at the tree branches above.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 274):

The coyote seemed to have settled down a bit, and was no longer acting agitated.

 Rowan looks at Trickster and taps her foot, "trickster are you saying there is nothing out there now"

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg # 277):

Trickster looked up, then sniffed the grass.

"Gone now."

Having finished his conversation with Walker, Simon walked back to the truck. Climbing in, he started to doze again.

Quiet returned to the wide-open forest clearing. Wind rusted the tree branches. It grew cold as the night progressed. Water from the earlier rains quietly dripped from the trees.

Out at the road, Trejo and Jason kept a silent watch.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:04, Fri 16 Aug 2013.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 279):

After seeing to Simon, Fred returned to his nervous vigil beside the HiLux. He alternated between looking up at the stars and down at his palm-computer.

"They're late. I was afraid this might happen. If they're not here by midnight, then there's an alternative location for pickup."

Rowan turns to smoker "lets get back to the rest"
"What ever trickster heard is no longer here."
"Smoker if you want some one to simply be around, stick with me."
"Road kill will be back when he is good and ready"

"Thank you... I just feel... a bit, well, lost without the rig to fix. I asked Pete if he needed any maintenance work doing on his truck but he ignored me."

Smoker smiled at Rowan, then down at Trickster.

"How did you two come to team up?"

Rowan considers "he wandered into my small camp one night and stayed."
"As to Pete, Well I think he is so used to doing every thing him self, he did not even realise what you were offering Smoker"
Rowan grins "tell you what when I get a vehicle again you can work on that, how does that sound"

Smoker's eyes lit up.

"That would be great, Rowan."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:31, Fri 16 Aug 2013.

Peter glanced sideways at Fred the Librarian as he spoke up, assuming he could hear the other man. He lit up a cigarette and took a long drag, then slowly let it out. "Sure thing. Whatever you say." He looked around his "field of fire" again to make sure nothing was sneaking up on them.

A couple hours later, time was running out. It was dark and peaceful, night birds called and small animals rustled in the pine trees bordering the wide meadow.

Out by the turnoff to the main road, Trejo and Jason heard a rapidly approaching pair of motorcycles. Two riders came into view around a bend, then slowed at the turnoff. Stopping, it looked like they were debating about something. One of them pulled out a red-filtered torch, and started playing it on the side of the road by the turnoff, looking for something.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 286):

Raising his P90, Jason got ready to fire. Before engaging, he asked his fellow lawman and his former Knight, "you figure these are friends or foes, Trejo?"

"They're too far," he said quietly as he watched.  "Wait till they get close and we'll pop 'em then.  With luck they'll miss the sign in the dark and drive on.  I'd rather not make noise; echoes and all."  He didn't bother responding about the friend or foe bit; sure seemed obvious enough to him.  They were on a secret transport mission, to an unknown destination, at night, carrying the most important person in their entire order if not in a larger sense.  The odds were kind of on the low side for friends he figured.

In reply to Trejo (msg # 288):

Nodding, Jason let the HK P90c drop to it's tactical sling across his chest. Instead, he drew his sword from its scabbard, a Templar's best friend. It was an ancient broadsword, some said it was a museum piece dating back to the Crusades. Perhaps it had been quenched in the blood welling from a Saracen throat.

He would wait until they passed, and then lop the head of the closest rider off with a sure swing.

In reply to Jason Sinclair (msg # 289):

At first, Trejo was convinced those were 2 Black Hat scouts. Ever since he'd escaped from the Combine, he had waged a 1-man war against Throckmorton's minions wherever and whenever he could. Probably his best kill to date was riding by and aiming his machete in a vicious overhand chopping motion downwards to the base of a Black Hat's neck, splitting him diagonally in two. The man's head, neck and 1 shoulder slowly slid off his torso in a fountain of red gore. Then the grenade he was holding in his hand and about to throw into the passing Rig exploded, scattering baseball-sized chunks of bloody meat for dozens of feet in all directions.

Then he realised in the dim moonlight and backscatter of the bike headlights he could make out the two riders were wearing Templar tabards, red cross on a white background, with swords belted at their waists. Having decided where to go, they turned off the road and started slowly up the trail in their direction. He thought he could recognise them as well; an older black woman (Winnie Franklin) and a young man with a beard and long hair in a ponytail (Denis Carlton).

Back in the moonlit mountain meadow, it got colder as the hour drew close to midnight and the wind picked up. Most of the people there didn't note anything out of the ordinary, but a few did. Trickster yelped and looked up.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 290):

Recognising the riders, Jason checked his lunge while still in cover, then gave Trejo a worried glance.

Peter frowned for a moment. Something was wrong. He wasn't sure what. He looked around, then finally looked up. His eyes widened. "What...the hell is that?"

He glanced to Fred then started to raise a gun. "Is this your ride, or do we open fire?"

Trejo gave a frown as he recognized the tell-tale tunic.  So much for secret.  And what was going on that caused 2 more of the brethren to show?  In the middle of the night no less.  Nothing good probably.

He relaxed his posture, digging for a lighter and one of his shinier blades.  A little reflected light should get their attention without his having to shout and alert the country-side.  "Templars," he remarked to his former pupil, letting him know.

Jane shivered.  "heads up. Rowan and Trickster. Is that what you were feeling earlier?  Look up North.  I don't see any stars and whatever that is that is up there isn't a regular vehicle.  That would show up similar to silver with this moonlight tonight.  I don't see ANY light at all from it.  What's up with that."

Jane made sure that Baby was readied.

Walker nodded at the Void in the Sky.

"Stealth Dirigible... Huge one... Nice piece of kit.

Quiet and Efficient.

Our ride?"

He looks to the rest of the party and readies up his weapon, just in case he is wrong.

 Trickster and rowan both agree that is exactly what they were feeling earlie

"Whoops! Almost screwed the pooch, there."

He sheathed his sword and called out, "hey guys, hold up! What's going on?"

The two Templars stopped next to Trejo and Jason. They recognised them as fellow Templars, Winnie Franklin and Denis Carlton, whom they'd last seen that morning in Boise.

Franklin, the older black woman, replied, "good to see you! Denis and I were instructed to trail you but hang back, make sure you weren't followed. That German guy, Schaeffer, too. Sure enough, two Black Hat squads were gaining on you but we saw 'em before they spotted us. Then we ambushed 'em at your rig, along with the folks from New Ontario and that Roadkill guy. Schaeffer offered to stay there, hunt down the rest of the Black Hats so they can't get the word out they failed.

"We were delayed, but figured we may as well continue to the RV site. And here we are!" She, like Denis, looked tired from the ride and the fight.

"Let's get going, see if your ride has arrived." Winnie and Denis started back up the trail to where the others waited.

Back in the alpine meadow...

Nodding, Fred replied to Walker and Jane, "a dirigible? Yes, that would be them. Largest aircraft we know of that's still flying! Incredible, so big yet so quiet!"

Meanwhile, Simon had climbed out of the cab of the technical. He walked over to a clear spot and placed a small black round object on the ground.

The reason the immense shadow was so quiet became apparent as it came close and began to hover overhead. The engine pods were shrouded electric ducted fans, almost silent from over a couple hundred metres away and with little thermal signature. The humming of electric fans and motors grew as the shape settled overhead.

Then, a separate buzzing started to get louder, obviously some kind of small aircraft coming in for a landing. A tiny sleek black 2-man helicopter zoomed in at treetop height, flared to kill speed and landed almost on the spot where Simon had placed something on the ground. The canopy lifted up, exposing a pilot in front and passenger in behind (sitting tandem one after the other). There were two pods under stub wings on either side.


The pilot and observer climbed out. The pilot bent down to pick something up, then waited for his companion. He was armed with an SMG, dressed in a survival vest over pilot coveralls and kept his helmet on, NVGs clipped to the visor.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 298):

"Ah! It looks like our ride has arrived. And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?" His tone indicated he probably already knew but he held off on saying anything.