Graphite, New York
February 2nd, 1932

It was a drizzling gray afternoon full of lingering ghosts. The sleet came down in occasional flurries, but most of the time it remained suspended in the air as mist that the newspapers next day were to call “the thickest fog within memory.” Road traffic was almost at a standstill, and only a few drivers who were foolhardy, or those pressed by absolute necessity, were out.  The wind whipped up into occasional gusts that Mickey and Doc wondered if this was the day, the day that would bring ghosts from their past riding a pale steed of vengeance.

Six weeks ago Doc and Mickey were in the employ of Gentleman Jack, also known as Jack "Legs" Diamond.  Jack was an entrepreneur, who risked his freedom to ensure hard working people could have a drink at the end of the day.  It was hazardous business, as Mickey had known for most of his life.  If it wasn't Revenuers on your tale, it was the local Constabulary or worse yet the kingpins of the business, the Outfit, the Commission, Murder, Inc.  Mickey grew up in the gangs in Chicago, met Doc there.  When the Big Outfit was taking over, Mickey and Doc got the feeling they'd be walking on the wrong side of the grass soon in the Windy City, so they left.  Managed to get work with Gentleman Jack.

The Sicilians that controlled New York with the 'Commission' had it out for Gentleman Jack, they weren't about to let a Philly Irishman in on a cut of their action; making the last couple years exciting and dangerous. Jack loved to live it up too, drinking and dancing, and that Irishman could cut a rug.  That's how he got his nickname 'Legs'.

Gentleman Jack survived any number of assassination attempts, sometimes with Mickey his wheel man avoiding them, sometimes by Doc patching him up.  Mickey remembers a time back in '30 when Doc pulled 5 bullets out of Jack in Manhattan.

Gentleman Jacks Legs fell still in the wee hours of December 18th, 1931.  Jack had been up on charges for kidnapping in Troy, NY.  It was bullshit, but the Commission had it out for him and had every DA and police force in New York dropping charges on Gentleman Jack.  Jack had beaten the wrap on bootlegging and assault 3 times already in '31.  Again, he beat the charges with the help of his attorney, Abbott Jones.  The crew celebrated that night.  Having drinks and dancing in Albany.  But it would all erupt as Doc and Mickey slept in a room down the hall from Jack and his mistress Kiki.


Shots rang out after 1 in the morning.  Mickey grabbed his Tommy and ran into the hallway in his drawers, Doc on his heels.  Mickey got off once burst into the men leaving Jack's room...…….. Albany Police.  The Thompson bucked and ripped a half dozen rounds in the copper from upper thigh to opposite shoulder.  The man thudded to the floor eyes agape.  The other copper jumped down the stairwell crumpling into a howling ball at the bottom 2 stories down.  Rushing into the room, it didn't take Doc to know that both Kiki and Gentleman Jack had cut a rug for the last time.  The two rapidly went back to the room, grabbed their pants and coat and hustled down the stairs as sirens could be heard closing in.  Doc hit the bottom of the stairs first, then hit the exit.  As Mickey hit the bottom of the stairs the copper roared, Mickey turned to see him raise his Police model Smith and Wesson, Mickey saw the flash, felt a jolt to his right hand and raised his chopper.  The Thompson didn't fire, jammed he guessed.  So he dove through the open exit onto hard cobbles, scraping his face.  He picked himself up and hopped in the drivers seat of his Flying cloud.  The car roared to life and lurched down the street.  When Doc said, your bleeding.


Mickey looked down, saw his hand was gushing blood. Doc would later pull a bullet fragment from his hand, after Mickey had put the slip on 3 cruisers closing in on them.  What neither Doc nor Mickey could fix is the bullet that hit the bolt of his Thompson and broke it.  The Thompson is inoperable and needed a decent gun smith and probably parts.


The tiny roadside cabin, just 8' x 10' in nowhere Graphite, NY was where Mickey would heal up, and the two would lay low.  Nothing here but 3 small cabins and tiny fuel station that also provided postal service and groceries for a few local miners.  Doc managed to pay the toothless granny with booze from the Flying Clouds Trunk.  It was enough to buy their lodging, meals and the old gummers silence for 6 weeks. The old gummer even gave them a smoked ham hock for Christmas and some blackberry jam.


Mickey's hand was now fully healed, the bullet damage to the brake master cylinder had been fixed with the master cylinder from a wrecked Stutz Touring car sitting behind the fuel station.


This message was last edited by the GM at 03:31, Thu 26 July 2018.

Willowbank, Ontario, Canada
February 2nd, 1932

The tall aboriginal native gave a heavy swing of the prop, the popped, choked ,then sputtered to life on the 1928 Fairchild Float Plane.  The pilot brought the Pratt & Whitney Wasp, 9 cylinder radial engine up to an idle, his eyes scanning the dimly lit gauges of the control panel.  He eyed the oil pressure specifically.  He’d just replaced the oil pump yesterday.  The oil pressure gauge slowly climbed, 10, 20, 30, 45 PSI and holding steady.  He gave exhaled for the first time since hitting the ignition switch.  His eyes wandered to the RPM gauge, 3000 and steady.  The pilot worked through his final pre-flight checks quickly.  It was important get in the air fairly quickly.  It was winter and the isolated bay was starting to get a paper thin crust of ice.  If it continued to chill it could be a big problem in another 30 minutes.

The Pilot checked his passengers, “Everyone buckled in and ready”, it was more of a statement than a question. The aboriginal checked each of them, as he had done throughout the several weeks they had been together.  He checked his buddy the Cowboy who was helping on this trip, he then checked the French Surveyor who was on the plane.  The scout thought he was a strange man, he had odd ways, his nose usually in his note book or a map.  Last he checked the young lady, she was so pretty, and always smelled nice.  She had a lot of radio equipment where she would send messages and the Frenchman would write down records.

  The Pilot got a thumbs up from the tall Aboriginal Native sitting in the jump seat just behind and to the side of the pilot.  The planes engine eased up to 15000 RPM and started pulling the float plane through the bay and toward the St Lawrence River.  The plane shook from the waves, and 180 bottles, packed in 20 wooden cases, stored in the tail cargo bay chattered and tinkled with the vibrations.  The hooch was for Legs Diamond.  A Special Order he had made right after being released from jail.
The tail started to lift slightly as the float plane reached taxi speed.  Taking off at night, especially on a river with floating debris was always risky, but the pilot had done it many times.  These runs were helping to pay for this plane.  But it was always nip and tuck on finances.  He was forced to sell advertising on the plane to help make the payments.  The back two-thirds of the plane was painted a medium dark blue, with the words Milk of Magnesia painted in white. The ad space sold to Royal Drug and Sundry of Kingston, Ontario, Canada.


This message was last edited by the GM at 17:44, Sat 28 July 2018.

"When are we meeting that pilot," Doc asked, checking the magazine on his Walther. He wasn't expecting trouble from the law--this far Upstate, you were basically in the Wild West--but he couldn't be sure if anyone else knew about Legs' deal, and with Mickey's Thompson out of commission, he wanted to be careful. He closed his medical bag in the trunk of the car. He wasn't expecting anyone to get shot, but again, he didn't want to risk it.

Mickey replied, supposed to be 1-2 hours after dark.  We should probably get on the road.  I'll go get the car started and warmed up if you want to start to load the bags.

We were pretty lucky to find this place and the Old gummer kept her mouth shut too.  Do you think Dutch Schultz still has his boys looking for us?





This message was last edited by the GM at 19:47, Sat 28 July 2018.

"You got it," he said, grabbing a few duffel bags from the cabin and loading them alongside his medical gear. "I'd say Dutch might have bigger problems than us to worry about. Albany police isn't going to be happy about one of their own getting killed doing a hit for him. If he is looking, I doubt it's up here. This is the middle of god-damn nowhere."

As his plane soared into the night sky over the bay, so did the heart of Iain MacBay.

The thrill and wonder never got old.

He knew well the land below him from a lifetime of trapping, guiding, canoeing.

And he knew the people that he sought to serve, using his plane to reach his remotely scattered friends to the north during these lean and blustery days, both seasonally and economically.

However, to minister to them, he needed to soar for hire, to keep his own finances from freezing over.

There would be no fancy flying tonight, no barnstorming, no rolls, no loops, no tricks.  Straight up, straight along, straight down.

Still the thrill remained, as the bay fell away, and he soared above the water, above the trees, toward the cold, crisp, winter stars.

He sang quietly, his slight Scottish brogue just discernible above the noise of the engine.

<sup><sub>"The heavens declare Thy glory,
   The firmament Thy power;
Day unto day the story
   Repeats from hour to hour;
Night unto night replying,
   Proclaims in every land,
O Lord, with voice undying,
   The wonders of Thy hand.

The sun with royal splendor
   Goes forth to chant Thy praise;
And moonbeams soft and tender
   Their gentler anthem raise;
O'er every tribe and nation
   That music strange is poured,
The song of all creation,
   To Thee, creation's Lord.

How perfect, just, and holy
   The precepts Thou hast given;
Still making wise the lowly,
   They lift the thoughts to heaven;
How pure, how soul restoring
   Thy gospel's heavenly ray,
A brighter radiance pouring
   Than noon of brightest day.

All heaven on high rejoices
   To do its Maker's will;
The stars with solemn voices
   Resound Thy praises still;
So let my whole behavior,
   Thoughts, words, and actions be,
O Lord, my Strength, my Savior,
   One ceaseless song to Thee."</sub></sup>

The plane leveled off, and the Pilot called back to the others.

"We are up and away, me lads and lass, thanks be to God.  Is everything all right back there?"

    Pushing the brim of his Stetson up and Leaning  back, he folded the  Map up carefully   and  slipped it into the leather  Pouch,  calling forward,


 so  far, we are fine... no pine tree  sticking through the wings this time....

 Grabbing his  rifle and  sliding over his pack, he pulled out an oil-smelling   cloth from a side pouch  and  Began  to  wipe  down the  wood  of his  scoped  rifle , his hair hung  down below  his  ears, under the  Brim of the beaten hat., his green eyes  belied the reddish tint  to his  skin

The float plane flew east over the St Lawrence, it was cold in the aircraft, below freezing, and noisy, too noisy to really carry on a conversation or sleep.  The plane pushed on through the dark, Northeast 32 degrees for 58 minutes, then Southeast 140 degrees for 22 minutes, then due East 90 degrees for 46 minutes.


The flight could have been shorter, but this was the route that allowed him to stay out of government patrols looking for boats and planes bringing in booze.  The route once again payed off, no sign of being spotted.  There was enough moonlight to see Point Au Roche and the bay just south of it.


He brought the plane down gently, the water was slick as glass.  The floats touched, bounced and then settled into the cold water.  From the shore, the Native American spotted a set of headlights flash...…… the signal.


The pilot idled the plane to a wooden dock jutting into the lake.  On the dock was a red and black sedan, with two men standing outside it.  The scout hops out onto the float, and throws a tie up rope to the men by the car.

   Si looked up at the  dock  as   He   shoot the   loped   Rope out to the   Men...Lend a hand, if you want this to go faster... He holds  of  securing the flaot until they  make an effort to  secure thier  end.

Amelia Farrington snuggled deeper into her overcoat as the door of the aircraft opened and what little still-air there was (one could hardly say 'warm') was exchanged for an icy blast. She tried to bury her nose into her collar, and buried her gloved hands even deeper into the hand muff in her lap. She would leave the loading and unloading to the men.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:11, Tue 31 July 2018.

Doc got a few duffel bags out of the trunk of the sedan before striding up to the end of the dock and tying off the other end of the rope.“Name’s Vito, you can call me Doc. You got the merchandise?”

  Si Nodded   thanks  for the tie off,..I  Don't know, Sir, I'm  Just here  to  making  sure  folks don't  try to hurt no one....

  He  Walks    along the  pontoon to the Door    reaches  in for his rifle  as he calls in, Man named Vito, Doc...... what's to know  if  we have  the  merchandise...

 she  steps  backs  a bit  toward the aft of the plane,  holding  his  rifle , His eyes  look around  the area, watching  for  anything  comign from the  water... or down range from  the  plane.

Lake Champlain, New York
2015 Hrs, February 2nd, 1932



A young cowboy with a big hat and wooly chaps stands up, tips his hat to Amelia and says,
just sit there 'n be comfortable little lady, we'll have this straightened out quicker then a skeeter bite.


The cowboy steps out onto the pontoon, then hops onto the dock, spurs jingling
Yeah, we got merchandise................................... you got money ?
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:42, Mon 30 July 2018.

 Darkshadow, still keeps his wits but   his  rifle Bolt slides, giving one  cold  stare to the  fellow   named  Doc, but so fare the ridle is  still pointed  downwards.

 ..nights like this....the alpha  hunters will come, with the moon..seeking food for the pack...or...keeping  those  from thier  territory...to waste   Time.. is to shorten a life...

The Young cowboy took out a cigarette paper, a pouch of tobacco and started rolling a smoke.  He looked up with raised eyebrows from his work toward the two men near the red and black sedan.

You heard 'im boys, lets see yur Frogskins er were gonna have a little disagreement round these parts

“Now hold on just a minute,” Doc said, edging his hand towards the bulge in his coat pocket.“It seems like we might have something of a disagreement already. You see, Legs Diamond already paid for that liquor. So either start unloading the booze, or you better rustle up the money he paid for it.”

  The  Halfbreed didn't  seem like he was lookign at them, hard to tell  with the Moonlight shadow,   but the Rifle   came up more quickly  then one  would think.

  ..now?.. You can keep reaching... You might even pull it.... but you'll never  shoot it....

  He   has the rifle up. he didn't need the scope at that range,  so he  could watch both men.....HEY!...  TREETRIMMER.... these slickers... take us  for  too much backwoods..eh?...we've been around....don't treat us, like  Housers or Keeners..

“I don’t take you and the cowboy for anything other than would-be thieves at the moment. Like I said, the liquor’s been paid for.” Doc walked calmly up to the Indian man, and gently pushed the barrel of the rifle to the side. “I don’t want this ending bloody any more than you do.

Click

The cowboy dropped his half rolled smoke and pulled his revolver.

Whoa, there mister................
you callin be some kind a midnight bandit ?
If we'd of gotten the cash, you'd be sittin pretty with 20 cases of Canada's best right now.

The driver of the car reached through the drivers seat and pulled out a Thompson Sub-Machine gun and leveled it at the cowboy.

HOP-ALONG,
you met Mr Thompson yet ?

Legs told us specifically he'd paid for the hooch.

This message was last edited by the GM at 01:37, Tue 31 July 2018.

  The Hlafreed's  eyes   twinkled in  the  moonshade of his  hat,wel , Sir, My  job is to protect the folks on this plane..and.. the business end of  which  out Treehopper there   keeps us   working...

 Now, Since you saw it  all nice    and  cozy, he stop down her on the pontoon with me... what do you think is gonna happen to you  if the guy hidin' in the car. wants  to  chew up my friend there?

   There's three  out  comes.. none of them havign you beign around to see them... Cowboy? well.. he dies  in two of them.. but if  Mr  car guy doesn't get out?.. I'm afraid that gun won't  do him too  much good.. and I gotta  figure  Cowboy is a  Much better shot, an' he'll be able ta move.........

 ..no.. our   friend...in that cockpit?... he'll tell us right square,  if  you owe us money or not.... if you do?.. and yhou don't have it..well... you best be on your way.. if its  paid  for..  Me and Cowboy  will make sure the  cases  are on the docks... BUt that  Tommy?..not  gonna do him a damn bit  of  good from that range, and me and you on this here  Pontoon.

“You’ve never seen one of this things go, have you? They’ll kill a man at a hundred feet through a brick wall. He’s maybe fifty feet away, so he’s got plenty of range. He could take out everyone in this plane in, oh, about four seconds. Maybe I’ll die. That’s not too big a problem for me. I don’t got much going on besides this business.” Doc looked to the cockpit and raised his voice. “Legs gave the money to Paul. You should already have the first half. If Paul’s playing games with you, we’ll be happy to help you track him down. But we need that liquor.”

A little man comes to the door dressed in a wool coat that is worn and soiled.

Excusez-moi, messieurs

The probability of a good outcome for everyone is to work together, sell the alco-ol,
Which I understand to be in great demand in this country.  In the mean time we can investigate what happened to the money and make a resonable and fair division of the assets attained from the sale of said goods.

  Si  shrugged with a tilt of his head.....we  saw some of those in  Hollywood... he's  got that little window to shoot out of?...if  he  don't  get Cowboy  before  Cowboy gets  off the dock?. well......

  When the Doc  fellow   calls into the plane,  The Halfbreed  says,..sounds like   you get Half of it.... 'casue   Pilto took half.. if  we didn't get the other half.. neither  do you...right?.. can't expect us to give you somethimg   that we didn't get paid for..Again?.. it just comes   to what Pilot says...but we've been to the stampede more then  a few times...

“Then Cowboy’s in the water and can’t shoot back. Those Hollywood props aren’t the real thing, and they’re loaded with blanks. If it’s all the same to you, I’ll let the flyboy speak for himself. He had an arrangement with Legs Diamond. Legs held up his end of the deal. You’re the one trying to bilk is out money that’s already been paid.”

The little man speaks again.
Amis, Amis,
There are 20 cases total, or 180 bottles.

Les boursiers on the dock have the connections to sell the alco-ol, without them we risk in the donjon or de Mort.

Nous sans ces hommes, are foreigners with illegal marchandises, no automobile and an empty fuel tank on the Laxative Express here.

Shall we pledge half the alco-ol for sale, so that we can at least get paid enough to fuel up the aeromotor.  Of course, we will got with them while they make the transaction.

While this conversation unfolded, the Pilot regarded Doc with a thoughtful expression...

OOC: Sigh.  Friend GM, is a roll of 1 an automatic failure on a Telepathy attempt?  O_o

RPoL Dice Roller:

20:06, Today: Flyboy rolled 11 using 1d10+10.  Empathy + Telepathy (vs. Doc's Empathy + Mental Discipline).

  ..in the end  Vito Doc.... if  we don't have the  coin...you don't half half the  booze...Leg's problem he  didn't get the money to us...

  , Cowboy? why don't  you move to the other side of the  dock...if the guy  tries to get out of the care.. make him decide its not a good idea...

  ..it is  said.. the moon light can bright much wisdom to those who listens to  nature...but  death to those, who do not...

 Le' Petite' french men.. has  a grasp of  the truth of it all..

The pilot doesn't say anything, just looks at Vitto oddly

He eyed Cowboy, then Scout, and chuckled. Boy, neither of you were in the war, were you? Being a few feet to the left won't save you from a machine gun. Half the liquor, and you up and leave once it's on the docks. We got a deal? I don't know the little Frenchie, and I don't know you. We came here alone in good faith. As far as I'm concerned as far as Legs is concerned, you've already been paid. You want to sell to someone else, they'd leave you all dead in the water and sell the plane for scrap if you pulled something like this."

OOC: My Empathy + Mental Discipline is 14 anyway

The Cowboy started stepping to his right, each boot heal thudding on the wood, matched by the simultaneous jingling of spurs, then he said.

Nínaa(wa), nohpsskína'yi, siksinááttsiwa



It was a language that only two people in the area had even heard before, and only one other knew.

   there is a snort and  a smirk from  Darkshadow  when the Doc  mentioned  war...we've been in a  scrape or two.... I doubt the  guy hiding in a care shooting through  a small window in the dark....can say the  same...


  .....one thing you need to think on.... you'er askin' us to do what you won't?.. an'..the difference is.. we have our end of the deal here.. you...do not...

Vitto didn't even notice the attempt.

The pilot sighed, and called out.

"Stand down, friends.  I'm coming out."

The pilot exited the plane, and nodded to Doc and Driver.

"I don't know you gentlemen well, but we have done business together before, to our mutual profit."

"What has changed this time?"

"The only thing different about this time that I know of is... this time Paul told me the payment would be upon delivery."

"I didn't think anything much about it at the time, since Legs has been reliable.  But now... it concerns me."

"Gentlemen, what do you know of Paul?  Do you think that he is a trustworthy man?"

A light is seen in the distance headed this way

   Scout  says ..look!..... a Light..... Cowboy.. .. back  away   get onto the pontoon...

  There  is  a frwon,, the only real part of his face that can be seen  on the shadow,..friends of your..Vito Doc?

Cowboy keeps a bead on the wheelman, and steps back on the plane.
Then tips his Stetson,

Well boys, it's been fun.   But looks like the booze is gong with us.

“Like I said, I saw Legs give Paul the money, the night after he beat those bogus charges last month. As to how trustworthy he is? Well, I think he’s as trustworthy as any other man who makes his living setting up black market liquor deals. As far as I know, though, this deal was supposed to go just the same as any other.” He saw the lights approaching through the trees. “You calling me a snitch? Either they’re here to kill us or they’re here to arrest us, and “us” includes you folks. Paul probably took the money and burned us all so no one would be able to tell.”

  Si  raises  his rifle to look at the   lights  through  his   scope,..hard  to tell who they  Hosers  are, but...folks like  us  don't  announce thier  arrival.. so?.... maybe  you fellas  are  to get the 9 hells out of here... and  Legs  can contact us whe he gets the  rest of the money?

 .. he will move top the front of the float crossing the  ridle  sling over his head, and  whips the   tie off expertly a few times  to get it to come loose.


 he  coils   the rope  looking towards the  on comign lights,..Unless you'er in a ral bad  way... then.. you might have to ask Pilot  to let you and you  window  buddy to come with us...

The little French man raises his voice, clearly annoyed.

OF COURSE MR. Q BURNED US.
Once he knew Legs was dead there was no logical reason to give the Pilot any money, and the lights over there can only confirm he's had the police waiting to catch us all.  Why else even make the order ?


He will likely get paid a reward from his mob friends and how do you say it the G-Men too.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:04, Tue 31 July 2018.

At this, Doc draws his Walther and levels it at the Frenchman. "Who exactly told you that Legs is dead? I sure as hell didn't. And I doubt that news has spread all the way to Canada, which means that the only other thing I can think of is that you work for Dutch Shultz. Maybe you're the one who told him where send his hired cops? You'd better start explaining."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:12, Tue 31 July 2018.

  Walking  back to the  door, he waves Cowboy in,..well..Vito Doc? In the air..or on the road... you gonna be goin'.... best, I think, if you come with us....No road blacks  in the air... but... You come  with us, we  might   Find the Paul fellow.. teach him some  Canuck  Manner...

 he  hands  the rope up, then climbs in himself, getting his rifle  ready as he  wedges him self   secure, and   starts  to track the Light through the  trees.

 as he  looks through the scope he  adds,..the frenchman paid his way.....

OOC
My bad.
Well played Doc.  That was my mistake. Please take this as the revised statement.


OF COURSE MR. Q BURNED US.
If Mr. Q is loyal to Legs, there was no logical reason not to give the Pilot the normal amount of money, why would the process change.

If Mr. Q was disloyal to Legs, and the lights over there can only confirm he's had the police waiting to catch us all.  Why else even make the order ?

"I agree," Doc said, drawing his Walther and keeping his eyes on the trees. "Hey Mick! I think we might have to leave the sedan behind. Grab my bag and let's bug out."

The pilot considers, and nods thoughtfully.

"It sounds like we have some common interests.  Paul, the cargo, the money... and leaving here now."

"You gentlemen are welcome to join us."

  There is a bit of  a Grin, as  he settles   in watching the  light  grow   closer....might not be a bad  idea  for that sedan to  star burning.. maybe  blow up...They get a little  closer, i can get off  a shot  or two to scare them...., but  if they get  closer, they might have rifles , just like thgs one..

Mickey nods and says,
Aye, Doc................... standby, but get that air jockey fired up will ya

Mickey, starts throwing a couple bags out of the back of car and says,
Hey, Hop-Along, give a hand 'ere

The Cowboy shrugs and goes over to grab bags.  Just before he bends over the wheelman tosses the Thompson sub machine gun to the Cowboy.
You may as well hold that, Sombitch doesn't work no how  then winks

The Cowboy starts laughing.

Mickey backs up the car with no lights, moves it about 200 feet down the road and backs it through some brush near a wood shed, then comes sprinting toward the plane.

Iain reenters his plane, thankful that he left it idling, and prepares for takeoff...

EDIT:

RPoL Dice Roller:

21:46, Today: Flyboy rolled 25 using 1d10+17.  Pilot Roll #1.
21:46, Today: Flyboy rolled 21 using 1d10+17.  Pilot Roll #2.
21:46, Today: Flyboy rolled 25 using 1d10+17.  Pilot Roll #3.
21:46, Today: Flyboy rolled 26 using 1d10+17.  Pilot Roll #4.
21:47, Today: Flyboy rolled 26 using 1d10+17.  PIlot Roll #5.
21:47, Today: Flyboy rolled 18 using 1d10+17.  Pilot Roll #6.

Is a roll of 18 really an automatic failure?  O_o

Yes, feel free to narrate the takeoff details for me.  :)
This message was last edited by the player at 04:51, Tue 31 July 2018.

Iain throttles up the Fairchild, and quickly raises the RPM, faster than he liked, the Pratt Whitney Wasp roared to life and lurched forward.  They were short 1 seat, Si is still on the float watching the light, a black and white, followed by 3 dark colored sedans pull up to the docks.

A couple of flat foots step out of the cruiser with old police smith & wessons pulled.  Doc pays no attention to them, it's the guys in black and white pinstripe silk suits, fedoras, and black on black ties that catches his eye.

The plane is well over a hundred yards away when they start firing.  First pistols, then machine guns lighting up the dock  A few bullets hit the plane, busting out one window and spraying glass over Amelia.

The plane is headed due south.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:52, Tue 31 July 2018.

Iain, I need 6 piloting rolls

  at the  first flash of  Fire, Si   will  fire  at  the closest 'longarm"  aiming fellow, If he can get another  shot off he'll aim for the easiest target, just   for the to understand  that they don't hurt the plane...

Iain has no trouble getting airborne and the plane more or less only takes cosmetic damage.


Once in the air he automatically get's his bearings.  The lake valley continues south.  To the east low mountains, to the west the Adriondaks.  Back to the north, hostile gun fire.


Iain checks his fuel gauge ……………………………… normal flying, 25-30 minutes tops.  If there is any trouble, it will be reduced dramatically.  It gave him a range of 30-45 air miles.


There were no lake to land on in range to the east, there was one to the south, Lake Dunmore, but it was a little touchy on range.  It would push their fuel available and if they ran into a headwind, even a small one they likely wouldn't make it.


To the West in the Adriondack were many lakes, it would be preferred to find one that is not frozen over, but the other problem is you had to get far enough away by sight and sound so the pursuers couldn't tell where you went.

In reply to Scout (msg # 50):

Roll to hit, and what are you aiming at ?

Your view from the plane, only a lot darker.


You are just above the I in Champlain right now, headed south.  You do have a crappy map.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:24, Tue 31 July 2018.

Iain's heart soars once again as the plane takes off, though he frowns at the cosmetic damage to his plane.

He regards the fuel gauge thoughtfully, and peers at a sub-quality map of the area.

Then he ponders for several moments before calling to the others.

"I hear that Burlington is lovely at this time of year.  What say you, me lads and lass?"
This message was last edited by the player at 06:34, Tue 31 July 2018.

Are you turning toward Burlington, heading straight to Burlington is a course of 130 degrees Southeast.

Iain heads south over the lake until safely out of evening visual range from those left behind, then turns toward Burlington, staying over the water as he goes...

Fortunately, her hat and coat, and the fact that she'd done her utmost to bury her face between the two against the cold, spared Amelia from the broken glass, and she shook the remnants off. The icy blast from the window would probably cause her more discomfort if they remained in the air for long. With a sudden thought, she offered a suggestion.

"Excuse me gentlemen, but I gather from the conversation and recent events that we have a consignment of illicit alcohol aboard. Are we certain that Burlington is outside the influence of those chaps on the ground?

"May I suggest, instead, that we make our way, via some circuitous route, to Lake Placid? I believe the Winter Olympics are to be held there in a couple of days time, so I'm sure there will be quite a large customer base to dispose of the 'evidence'.

"Once it has been sold, and you're holding nothing illegal, you can spend as much time as you like discovering who holds the original payment."

The young woman appeared to be remarkably calm, considering the fact that she found herself embroiled in a bootlegging incident and had been shot at by the police.

Rene' (numbers) says to Amelia
Est-ce que ces gens comprennent combien d'Européens boivent

Amelia smiled.
"Je ne rien pas."

Rene' responds
Ces coloniaux sont des néandertaliens

Quel est votre intérêt pour les Jeux olympiques

Amelia gave a little laugh, followed by a reproachful look toward her companion.
"Rene!"
"C'est la même chose que mon intérêt pour Ontario, mon ami."

The pilot checks his map at Amelia's query for several moments as the conversation continues, and interjects.

"Excusez-moi.  Alas, Lake Placid is beyond our current fuel supply, Lady Amelia."

"René...  Les bras m'en tombent!"

Beyond his banter with Numbers, however, his use of Lady Amelia betrays the pilot's remorse over having exposed her to such danger...

  Si secures  His Rifle with the  sling around  his  head  and shoulder   He  Pulls  his  scrap up  over his  hat to  Die it off   and  cover his  face.

   he  will  climb in and  sit of the deck   as he motions  for whom ever is closest to the door, to  secure it.

  grabbing his  BAck  pack, he takes   the blanket roll off the  back, tosses it to Cowboy, If you can't    cover  that broken window  with it, Give it  to the  LAdy  as  extra  cover, she's   right  by that damned thing.... wish i could have seen if  i dropped the bastard  that shot her up....


  Pulling out the rag  he  wipes  down the   rifle again,  cleaning he  Bolt action, and shaking his head,Ian, he handles  most of this stuff....I'm thinking   this  PAul fellow needs a  very strong lesson , taught to him...

The Pilot heads south out of range of the bullets then swings the aircraft toward Burlington, Veront.

After 15 minutes of flight Iain touches the plane down on the lake outside Burlington.  The plane seems to be outside a crowded Marina.

 As he  feels the  aircraft began to  dive, the HAlfbreed. packs Up his cloth  and tucks it away.  replaces   two rounds in the   the  5  round Mag, rotating the  rounds  so the   newest was on the bottom.

  standing  from his crosslegged  postion, he looks out the   tiny window of the  door....someone  wil see us  land... for  sure.... whether they care, will be another  story.

The plane idles toward the docks.  The sail boats, yachts and speed boats made of fine mahogany and teak, decorated with polished brass indicate this is an upper scale dock.  A few men in working clothes stand on the dock smoking, talking, coffee cups in their hands.  They seem very interested in the plane that just landed.

Iain looks for promising spots to move the plane toward.

"Anyone been here before?  Any suggestions where to park this breezer?  We need to buy fuel and to sell cargo..."

A couple of men walk out to the end of the dock, grab a rope and stand ready to toss it to the plane.

They toss it to Si who ties the plane up.
One of the men asked quizically.

Where you coming from ?  What brings you to Burlington ?
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:17, Tue 31 July 2018.

In reply to Flyboy (msg # 67):

OOC
No One has been to Burlington before.

Neither Vitto, nor Mickey know anything about Police or Gang activity in Burlington.
It never gets mentioned.

"I'm from Chicago. Heard it was a nice town, I was wondering whereabouts people might go to have some fun around here." Vito hopped onto the dock, holding his medical bag.

The wharfman replies to Doc,
There's a picture house in town, the Roxxy
It's playing the Cagney flick.


Then he smiles devilishly,
Has Loretta Young in it, have you seen the gams on her

 Si  finishes the tie off, while Doc  chats  with ,..there a  pump place here.. be good to get a fill up...

 he begins  walk back  along the pontoons to the door to collect his gear.

Yeah Chief
We can fill ya up, you need to pay in advance.
.20 cents a gallon.


OOC
Iain, Si and CHarlin know the plane holds 120 gallons, and good clean fuel generally goes for 12 to 13 cents per gallon

  ..wait?    That's 8 cents a gallon more then the norm... he shakes his head  as he pounds on the fuselage , under the  Cockpit,..Come talk to those   folks.. seems like they might be lookign for a way to make  some extra money..... I bet we can go deeper into town,  get some one  who's cheaper?.. But... You'er the deal Maker, I'm just  an enforcer...


 He looks   to the back door  as he reaches  for his  stuff, motioning  for his blanket  back...now?... You talk about  That  Loreta  Girl?.... We have us an English actress.... come by us  for  a view of...'real people, before  she  gets to write about it for her Olympic  Tour.... now?  I don't know much about  Ladies over  the  pond,but.. I sure  wouldn't  want bad Mouthed in her press, with all them dollars gettin' ready to be spent..
This message was last edited by the player at 22:54, Tue 31 July 2018.

Wharfman #2 is about to say something when Si objects to the price, but pauses when Si turns around.
Then when the English Actress is mentioned, both young Wharfmen look at each other and Wharfman #1 says,
Where's this Brit Bearcat ?

 Si grins   as he   checks the Bolt on his rifle,..she is  in the Plane, with the other  Body guards  and her  Press people..you know, radio and all that?... Be right   funny to her  all them tourists not wanting to come this way after  bad treatment hits  the waves.. But hey?..   I'm just a Hired  Guide  and  extra Gun to keep the lady safe...you know.. in case  people wanna  get too close...

 Then he stage whispers,..ever him them  english accents.... ? hand he  grins, but there is  too much mirth in his smile.

Wharfman #2
You go git that Bearcat, and I'll be right back with some gasoline

He slaps a newspaper into Si's chest, handing it off as he turns to go get fuel.

The Headlines speak of Japanese war in China and the Japs using some new technology,
Floating Aerodromes.

http://news.hrvh.org/veridian/...--en-20--1--txt-txIN-------

Amelia listened carefully as the Indian scout described her as an actress. Probably best to sit still and act aloof while he worked his scam. Wasn't that what actresses did?

Darkshadow was correct about one thing, though: these dock men weren't very good ambassadors for their township; she wouldn't have to act very hard about being unimpressed.

Iain initially regards Amelia with some quiet concern as she is volunteered for the scam, but his expression turns to wry amusement as he sees her start to play the part.

"And off he goes for the fuel.  'Cherchez la femme!' "

Most have gotten off the plane.  Only Amelia and Charlie the Cowboy remain.

Inside the plane Charlie goes to his saddle bags and pulls out a small cigar box.  He pulls out a few documents  printed on card stock.  He hands them to Amelia.  Speaking softly.

Little Lady, you may need these more than me right now

Amelia looks at the documents.
One is a printed security pass that says,
Actors Pass
Mammoth Studios

Another is a commissary pass from Warner Brothers Studio
The last is a glossy photo with the headline Fox Movietone News 1931

   Looking at the paper in the   dim light, he says,..Looks Like  MT. Ivy  cpuld use  some drinks... 500 gallon still was  raided....

 then he added as  an after thought, Damn  floating   areodromes?..... Gotta have to read this  thing  Better if i can  keep the paper...

 he   leaned in a bit, and called forward,how much  gas  can we afford  right now?.... And , Sorry  Miss  Amelia?? But..well.. these  Hosers aren't  gonna know too much about English  actresses?, so?  stay away from Namimg   real big flicks... and   we should be alright.

 Looking  at the paper a bit more, He hands  it in,page  5 has  some Movie stuff in.... You'll want to give them an Auto Graph?...  Make sure it s  all swirly , that should keep them in drinks for a month..

Back on the dock, Rene steps out and stretches, reaches into his wool jacket and pulls out a pipe.
Warfman #1 says, you mind walking up the dock away from where we'll be fueling to smoke

Then he turns back to the others and demands
We still have a the question of payment for the fuel my friends are getting.  Can I see your money?

Charlie looks at Si, Well, we just as well put on a show.  Miss, I suggest you pick a Western


He reaches back to his gear and grabs a rope, steps out on the dock and begins to twirl a small loop out in front of him.  Si has seen this many, many times.  Now Charlie is already stepping one foot in the spinning loop and back out again.

Amelia beamed. "Why thank you, Charlie. I'm sure these will be very useful." She carefully put the documents away in her purse and returned her hands to the warmth of the muff.

   Si moved   forward  abit , having his hand ready to Help Amelia out, like a good  body guard guy…

  well hold off  pumping it in,until the   pilot there   tells us  how much there is in the Kitty.... we lost some stuff  when  we were trying to get some pictures of Grizzlies and such for  the Lady she's waiting  for the next pay to get wired in.. so.. don't  put nothing in until we find out.. don't want you to  be giving us any thing, Just because  we got  a star with us..right?

"Oh, good heavens, I hadn't anticipated having to climb out of the aeroplane simply in order to refuel. It's not exactly warm in there, but I have absolutely no intention of standing on a windy jetty for half the evening whilst these men negotiate over a couple of dollars!"

Amelia took the scout's hand, daintily alighted onto the jetty, and looked the wharf men up and down. "Would one of you gentlemen be kind enough to escort me to somewhere warm? I assume you have some form of waiting room or hostelry?"

  Si looked to  Amelia,..Miss?  we can't have you go alone an' all.. You should  take the CowBoy , or Myself?...I believe folks here might  act  like gentlemen, but   Your people wouldn't be pleased  if   our company failed maintain … some form of safety for you?

Wharfman #1
Yes Ma'am  He exclaims,


The Harbor Masters Bungalow, I'll show you the way



The other men are midway down the dock rolling two drums of fuel.  They stop, stand up and hastily dust themselves off and stand up tall, looking at Amelia walking toward them with dirty smiles.


As Amelia approaches with her escorts, Wharfman #1 dresses them down in an obvisive attempt to show his status to Amelia.

WHAT ARE YOU TWO LOOKING AT...……..Back to work.  I want that plane fueled up in two shakes


They walk past them, a small shack at the end of the dock at which Rene' leans smoking his pipe.

Where we going

  Darkshadow, moves  a bit  onto the Wharf. His    rifle  in his   arms, easy enough to be  seen, but not threatening.

  He says to the  guys rolling the  drums,..you guys  ever   been at  a big movie place?... I have.. did  soem  extra  work.. plus  fetch and carry?.... You know what you don't wnat to do?.... You don't want some film company mad  at you, because  time is cutting into thier profits... They tend to hold grudges...

The workers nod with hurried nods and shortly are standing the barrels and inserting a hand pump to transfer the fuel.

OOC
I have Si and Charlie going with Amelia, Vitto and Iain currently at the plane.
Rene' undecided at this point
correct ?

 he walks   easy down the Wharf a bit  behind  Amelia... keeping alert, not only for actions of the    people.. but  for signs of  more 'red lights"..or  excited gatherings  comign thier way

In reply to GM (msg # 90):

OOC: OK for me. I wonder how well Google Translate will cope with this:

As they pass the Frenchman, Amelia says, "Voudriez-vous s'il vous plaît garder l'avion, monsieur? Ne le laisse pas partir sans nous."

She glances momentarily at the ground crew to indicate where her concerns lie.

Rene'
Je vais m'assurer que l'avion ne part pas sans sortir

J'apprécierais beaucoup un expresso chaud et un rouleau dur

She gave him a nod and a smile. "Moi aussi. Je verrai ce que je peux faire."

  there is a slight, half smile at the talk between, Amelia  and  Rene. He watches  the reactions  of  any of the  wharf Folk who might within ear shot, to see if  any of them understand.

The group walks up the dock to the landing, past wooden crates of cargo.  The night air is sharply chilly coming off the lake, only a very feint smell of fish in the air, mixed with coal smoke being settled by the overcast sky.

The stamps on many of the crates catches Amelia's eye, she sees the stamp HM the King, Customs, a pic of the British Crown and the text England below.  There are also stamps for Atlas Shipping and TransCanada Transport Co.


Wharfman #1 takes them off the landing about a block, with two turns, they can hear Jazz music being played, and laughter.  The group decends rough stone stairs to a door, the Wharfman's had reaches an unseen rope he tugs.  The muffled sound of a bell is rung, a door slat opens to see who is outside.

Harvey, come on in

The group enters the Speak Easy, all eyes go to them.  The room is filled with a variety of people from all about town.  From well to do folks to rough looking coalmen and fishermen.  Only a few women are in the room.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:43, Wed 01 Aug 2018.

Back on the dock.

Iain and Vitto watch as the Wharfmen begin to fuel the aircraft.  The two are mumbling under their breath to each other, bitching about the way the lead Wharfman just treated them and complaining of why they have to do this.

  sweeping  the  area with his  eyes, he pushes the  brim of his  hat up, Just a Tad.

  ...stay close  to  Rene... I'm  going to  do some talking...  He    shoulders the sling across his head and shoulders.

   slipping through the   folks  he nods to the  more  'rough' bunch' and  more or less ignores the well-to-do, unless  encountered  , when he reaches the  African, he gives   his brow a knuckled salute Like the old  Time  Navy.


  ..well Met... this place  seems  ,  crowed, do they have  any problem gettign stock?.. seems like folks here  might  dry the place up..

 even as he talks  his eyes    study the area a bit more, keeping an eye on his comrades.

The man is using a Marlin Spike on a heavy folding knife the thread the eye splice.  He looks up at Si and speaks in a heavy, deep foreign accent.

Iain, Rene' and Vitto can see them talking.

      he turns his back to the  wall , while carrying on the conversation, he lowers his voice  a bit,
This message was last edited by the player at 20:46, Wed 01 Aug 2018.

In reply to Scout (msg # 100):


The man looks up at Si and shakes his head, warning Si off such action.


Iain, Vitto and Rene' can see the expression on the African's face who is talking with Si is very concerned.  He looking around cautiously, very worried.

Back in the Speak Easy
The crowd is looking at Charlie and Amelia and their guide Harvey(Wharfman #1)

At the Aircraft.

The Wharfmen are refueling, one man(Wharfman #2) on the wing holding the spout and filling the starboard side tank.  The other(Wharfman #3) is pumping fuel with the hand pump out of the drum.

The man pumping fuel, looks at the group and says,

Milk of Magnesia! ? Loudly, then begins to chuckle

That's funny.  Why you Movie High Rollers flying around with a stool softener on the side of your plane?

  Si  , as a way of habit  , unsnaps the leather cap that holds  his  tomahawk in place, the  Elkhorn long knife on the  other ( left) hip.

 Looking to the plane,


Calling  over to  the plane he says,... We got hired  because  we are  cheap, Know the country..and are damn good shots.... that painting, helps  pay the  bills..

 he tries  to look like   he is more  at ease,..so.. yu been  around?.... ever stop in  The Big Easy?

In reply to Scout (msg # 104):

The man looks at Si cautiously,

No, I've never been there.  Where is it.  I have spent most of my time around the Mediterranean.  In many ports
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:05, Wed 01 Aug 2018.

  Si  shook his head   with  Pursed  Lips.. He  waves to  Cowboy...when the  fellow looks at him hi gives some hand signs

(  get Sparks and the rest )


 Knowing now, he  stays  away from names  as he calls to Fly Boy.....hey!..  I told you   I could find a  seaman for   The LAdy's  nest set up!..be nice to get there  on time?.. I mean 20 dollars for being early is nothing to sneeze at!

 he will  walk to the   plane asking  the Fellow  about what fish are  running  now, , and it  would be a good piece to have   both him and Si in the   shot to show  the Olympic people that  the country  has  all manner of folks living in it.

  As the reach teh Pontoon , Si   Says to  Fly Boy,..guy says  he will help us with  that  Fishing  shoot, The LAdy wants to do, but   we have to bring him back when we're  done?..he says Knowing the  wharf Folk can here  Him,.. Go ahead..Hop in show   the Guy on the charts were  we're goin'.. 20 bucks is riding on this!

 he Grins like at idiot at the    fuel guys  and  takes off   don't the wharf. His   soft Boots   hardly making a sound, though his pack and  rifle  bounce enough.

OOC
Cowboy is not within site, but Rene' says

IC

I will retrieve the Lady and the her escort.  Pardon.


Rene' starts walking up the docks toward the Speakeasy

 Si  stops   halfway down, he walks  a few more steps towards the speak easy trying to keep the   turn in sights  as well  as the  Plane

 He   Fusses  with his watch, like he  is checking the  time. while he waits for them to emerge

OOC
We'll need to wait for Amelia in the Speak Easy right now

Characters on the Dock can feel free to RP in the mean time.

Other than reassuring both Si and the fuel pumpers that he has the cash, the pilot observes the unfolding events more than he interacts, monitoring all that he can of the events swirling around his plane and passengers.

Some of this is from concern for their circumstances, swindled, fleeing from the lawful authorities, short on fuel, long on illegal cargo, flying to this unfamiliar location by the seat of his pants.

Some of this is from concern for Amelia, and for having put her in such a situation.  Whenever he looks at her, he remembers the night she lost her parents.  Five years have passed, and she has grown into a woman, but he still sees her as a younger sister that needs his protection.

Some of this is from concern for his other passengers, and for his employees.  The decisions he makes can affect lives, and he carries the weight of that knowledge.

Some of this is from instinct, monitoring the back of his neck for that unmistakable prickling warning of immediate danger.

And some of this is from guilt, knowing the moral compromises he has made by allowing himself to take on jobs involving such cargo, even if the money was being used to help and minister to needy folks during hard times.  He would have much to pray about tonight.

But he trusts Si and Charlie, and Amelia and René, and even Vitto and Mickey.

And he trusts that, in spite of his failings, the Sovereign God he serves is in control.

Soon after this thought, Si brings the local Iain observed him talking with toward the plane.

The look on the local's face while talking on the dock with Si had spoken volumes.

Si's actions as he brought the local here speaks volumes more.

"Well done.  Come on in, and I'll get the map."

He himself opens the door to the plane invitingly, with a reassuring nod and gentle smile...

The African man steps inside and moves toward the back of the aircraft.  Loudly stating for the benefit of the fuelers.
Now where's this map.  I can show you where you want to fish, but I will have to go with you to show you the best holes.


He then whispers to Iain
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:42, Thu 02 Aug 2018.

The pilot holds his map out where they can both look it over, casually shielding them from outside view...

The man looks over the map and indicates
There, that's where the SMART Ones Hide

His finger points to the map bottom center of the map
See image here: link to a message in this game
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:45, Thu 02 Aug 2018.

Amelia was mildly perturbed that Si had left her with the young cowboy and had wandered back out into the shadows outside, but presumably he knew what he was doing. She was also puzzled by the fact that the wharf man had said she could wait in the harbourmaster’s house, but had instead brought her to a speakeasy.
Not that it mattered. It was a lot warmer in here than it was on the jetty, and this looked like a party!

She gave Harvey a broad smile. “Amy Farnham. Pleased to meet you, Harvey. I don’t suppose you have any sherry? Or perhaps some red wine? You had me thinking we were going to wait in a dreary office making small-talk with some dry old harbourmaster my father’s age. This looks like much more fun.

“Charlie, would you take my coat?” Amelia took off her hat and shook her hair into a tousled mop, then she put her hat, gloves and muff into her large pockets, backed up to the cowboy, and shrugged off her coat. Underneath, she was wearing a fashionable dress. Day wear rather than party wear, but it would do. “Don’t let that out of your sight, now,” She smiled to Charlie.

Amelia picked up her drink with relish. ”Thank God we don’t have prohibition in England,” she said. ”It’s just so damned hard to get a drink on this side of the Pond!”

Harvey shrugged feigning innocence.
I thought you might like a drink first ?

Charlie takes Amy's coat and affects.  And stands there not sure what to do.


A circle of men are surrounding Amy know, many doffing their hats or taking them off.  Several questions are being thrown at her.

What pictures have you been in?
When's your next show?
Stage, Vaudeville, talkies?


A tumbler of red wine is thrust into Amy's hand.  Several men have their money out and bandy over who gets to pay for the drinks.  Charlie, his arms full, still manages to get a beer in his hand and starts to bend his elbow.

Charlie is watching the crowd, but not being forceful.

Amelia gave Harvey a grin. "That was a very good notion."

She perched herself decorously on a bar stool and smiled winningly at the men, taking a sip of her wine.
"Oh I'm afraid I'm not very famous, I've taken a few small parts in British films, but they probably haven't made it over here. I like to think I have most of my career ahead of me.

"One often sees American films in London, but so few of ours seem to make the return journey."

"But enough about boring little me, who wants to dance?"
Amelia took another sip from her glass and wiggled her slender waist in time to the music.

Dressed in a flannel shirt, dungarees, boots and a worn ten gallon hat Charlie looked the part.  His dusty leather coat came down to mid-thigh; which conveniently covered a colt 45 holstered on each hip.

Charlie wasn't entirely sure if Sparks was always this charming, or if she was turning it on for the crowd; but it was working.  Focus, Focus he told himself as he forced himself to survey the room with his eyes.  He continued to casually keep an eye out for any troublemakers.  When  we get out of here Sparks and I need to have conversation; getting to one of my pistols is going to difficult with both hands full.

 Si  stood in  the wind a bit, he wasn't   going to  take the  rifle off his shoulders, it would look to threatening.

 But the peace not   was  off his   Longknife  and the tomahawk  head was uncovered, he would  be  able to  Pull it   fast enough... He   looked at the  watch  again before  tucking it in , then  strode    towards the speak easy.

  when he approaches  the  door he Knocks, waiting to be let in, when the slot   slides, He says  with a bit of  a stained  smile,..I'm here  for     The LAdy and  My friend... Plane's  almost topped off.. we have a deadline to meet...

Several men jockey for position in front of Amelia.  Then one suddenly Amelia is grabbed about the waist, swung around and her feet set on the well worn wooden floor.  Amelia sees a rough working man in his early 20s, with a couple days of stubble on his face and deep green eyes.  He winks and they begin to dance to the jazz.  The music on the Philco was just turned up.

Charlie was a little surprised at the smooth speed of the man that had scooped Amelia up.  And yes, with his hands full, he couldn't react quickly enough.

A tap on Charlies shoulder reveals Rene'
The plane is nearly fueled.
Your friend Si would very much like to leave quickly.

Back on the dock, from the little warming hut at the end of the dock a phone begins to ring.
One of the fuelers looks toward the group.

Can one of you blokes pick that up and tell them were fueling

OOC
Si, Iain and Vitto are on the Dock

Amelia smiled at the young workman and launched into a dance with him. However, she made it very plain with her body language that a dance was all he was getting.

Charlie nods at the messenger, "Thank you kindly.  If you don't mind, let him know we will be out shortly."   Charlie takes a large swig of his beer and sets the mug down.

He ambles out to Sparks and her partner and speaks loud enough to get their attention, "Sorry to throw water on the campfire, but the plane is refueled and ready Miss."

   with Rene    goign into  the   building,   Darkshadow   trotted to the Phone, Once  again  Pulling out his  watch  as if he was really worried for time.

  pulling up  his  scarf a bit, he answered,....  aye?

Si goes to the warming hut, the phone has a specific ring tone.

Riiiiiiiiiiiing Ring Riiiiiiiiiiiing


Si picks it up a high pitched voice on the other end says........

 Si  smiles,..You bet.. be looking  for it.. thanks... we'll  give a call...

  he ..accidently.. doesn't hang the   phone up right, any other  incoming wil get a busy signal.  when he gets over to the    fuel Jockeys  he h=is shaking his head,

  ..funny.. real funny, I'm worried  about the  deadline bonus , and some  guy asks  me  if  I have Prince   Albert in a can... I said , I think? Cause  Cowboy rolls his own... the bastard says, 'you better let him  out!"

 Si  looks over the  wharf,  seeing if there are any fuel trails.. just in case they need to... light the place up.

 ..Man she   better get here... we  don't make that dead line.. we lose  money... people start asking questons.... Brits get  involved  so the Feds  get involved , all because she  can't   stand in the cold... for a bit?

 he got a  wooden  match from his pouch  and  stuck it in his teeth  to chew on, like he was nervous , which...wasn't  too far off base.

Rene' appears near the warming hut.  He taps out his pipe on the huts door jamb.  Small sparks fall out and float down on the dock and swirl into the water.
He speaks loudly and sarcastically.

Si, Iain, Vitto our Benefactor has a list of items that she demands be corrected post haste


Rene' waves them to come join him.

As Si turns to leave he can see a prismatic reflection of bubbles on top of the water.

Wharfman #2 derides Si,
Don't be a goof Chief, torch a fag here n you'll be in the happy hunting grounds in a jiffy

When they arrive he says in a low voice.


Charlie told me they will be along shortly, what's happening here?  What's our plan?


The fuelers have switched to the second drum and the second fuel tank on the port side.

  ..Smoking?  me?   that's no good  for hunting.. animals  run.... I used to chew... but now  i chew Match sticks.

   Si  walks  down  with a measured  Gate, still not making too much sound, to  The  both he  saw,  he  smiles  as he points to the wharf as if relaying  the   phone prank..


  ..the phone call was from those we left... they told the  folks her  to kill us  and burn the plane.....but?  they talked to me instead... They are getting in touch with the  law  up here.. it sounds like they are  dirty... The guy in the plane warned me, and  needed to escape....

 ..now , the water and the dock has  a film of gas... keep that in mind.. should  we need to use it.... now.. lets go bring them out...

 and  he  pats his  tomahawk  as he looks  for lanterns   and such to grab...  If the door opens,    he will  just barge  right through... if not he will pound on the door.

Rene' asks
What's the full story on the guy in the plane, what's with the fishing story

 ..i wanted to talk with him?... he reminded  me  a  fellow I Knew form  New Orleans... i asked if thier    speak easy needed  any  stock, and that;'s when he warned me...about this place... I  can only assume, this  is  a haunt of the Big  dogs, and they do not like puppies  around.

 whomever  was on the other end of the phone.. described the plane  to a T.. which is  , quite odd, since    it would  have been hard to see the lettering.. I jimmied the phone for a bit... but we need to go... and i will say again?..  the  water  and wharf has   gasfilm...  could make  for an equalizer, should  we need it.

Rene' takes in what Si is telling him, he seems concerned.  When Si mentions the phone Rene' looks around the corner to see the receiver sitting off the hook.

With wide eyes, Rene' looks at Si very worried.
Tell me you hung that up after you got done talking

  yes.. I clicked   the  phone off.  then before i left,  have the   reciever up  just a tad.. it looks like its  hung up.. but anyone  calling should not be able to get through

 then his eyebrows  narrowed,why?

Since landing in Burlington,  Mickey has been keeping to himself, staying in or near the warming hut. The bandage around his hand has been removed and a rosary has been wrapped around it instead. While quietly praying, Mickey has watched and listened to the conversations and interactions going on with his new companions. He's still uncertain on how far to trust them.

As the Native and Frenchman walk up to the hut, Mickey puts away the beads. He crosses his arms on his chest and leans against the hut wall, trying to look casual as he listens to the two talk.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:00, Fri 03 Aug 2018.

Rene' looks a little relieved.
OK, we might be all right.


Si, do you understand how phones work, how the connections are made or that others can listen in to most phone conversations ?
Many operators at the switch board don't truly close out the connection until the next call comes in.  That means anyone who picks up on any phone connected to the party line can listen in.

If you truly want to disable a phone, best way is to cut the cord.

We are probably OK, but there's a chance someone heard all of that.

  He looks   down the  wharf  to the plane,well?..its  facing  inward?.. it s  , of the  hook? and  we are way over here?... Anyway, we  ned to  get  our friends  out of there, and   up to the Plane.. the  new guy?  says   we won't  stand  a chance if  they decide to get rid of us... but then?.. that's  when we  burn the place to  the  foundations..9

Amelia pouted a little. "Oh, OK Charlie, I'll be right there."
She politely finished her dance with Green-eyes and gave the young man a brief hug. "Thank you for the dance, sir, but duty calls, I'm afraid. Still, I know where this place is, now. I'm sure I'll be back to party some more."

She shrugged on her coat, relieving the burden from Charlie's arms, and sought out Harvey. "Thank you so much for the introduction to the party, Harvey. I'm a lot warmer now. Sorry I have to dash, but you have a nice place here, I'll pop back again when I have a little more time."

Amelia headed for the door.

One of the rougher looking customers in the gin joint, pushes his way over just as Amelia gets on her coat.


Now, hold on there Miss, I paid for your drink, and I paid for the drink of little Annie Oakley there

Pointing to Cowboy


Sounds like you owe me a couple dances...………………. or something else

Mickey talks in a conversationally quiet voice, not a whisper, just subtle. So what's the play if someone did hear this end of the conversation and squeals to undesireables?

Amelia looked surprised. "Oh, well, if you really can't wait until next time I visit, perhaps I can refund your expense, but I really do have to go now. We were just passing time while we refuelled. - Harvey?"

   Si looks  at the  door to the  speak easy, well?.. the folks who called  where the folk who tied to kill us the first time.... if they called the law, the Law  will be looking for a plane.... but  we  are on the ground?... so what we need.. is to get the 9 hells out of here.. and  Ian  can  get us somewhere safe, we can let that  fishing fellow   escape. and  we can  find  a way to  get our money back, by selling off that juice.

 ..second thing? if things  go bad  for us, we make sure things go  bad  for them.... the wharf goe sup.. the speakeasy goes up..maybe   have this end of town..  my people learned that  from  these people  along time ago.

Harvey steps up and grabs Amelia's arm gently.  But Amelia gets the feeling it's more about moving slowly around a dangerous animal than worrying about being tender to Amelia.
Hey, Mac.
No Biggy, eh?

I'll make it up to you.



The brute crosses his arms

And Harvey escorts Amelia out of the Speak Easy.

Something catches Mickey's eye, the Customs stamps on the crates.  Transcanada........... That's where Duth Schultz and  Joie Bonanno got their booze.

Mickey looks at Si and shrugs. Seems as solid a plan as an other right now. How long we gonna wait for the broad and that cowpoke to come back? Mickey looks towards the speakeasy as he says this last part, then puts his right hand behind his back and under his coat. His hand is there for just a split second before he returns it back to his side.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:12, Fri 03 Aug 2018.

Amelia, Cowboy and Harvey come around the corner and meet up with the group at the warming hut.

The group is back together

Amelia shook Harvey's hand warmly. "Thank you so much for your hospitality, Harvey. I'll be sure to look you up next time I'm in town.

"Shall we go, boys?" Amelia walked back to the plane.

Mickey's curiosity gets the better of him. He starts looking closer at the labels on the crates.

Mickey sees the stamp HM the King, Customs, a pic of the British Crown and the text England below.  There are also stamps for Atlas Shipping-New Brunswick and TransCanada Transport Co., Distillery Company of London

Rene' says,
Considering the size of those crates.
I estimate that each one holds 243 bottles of alco-ol,
with a street value of $425.25.

At a weight of 486 pounds, and payload clear space of around 1400 pounds remaining.
We could handle two crates, weighing a total of 972 pounds, or a street value of $850.50

A not so subtle smile creases Mickey's face as Rene lays out the numbers involved. A rhetorical question slips through his lips. "Are you suggesting what I'm very sure you are suggesting Frenchy?" His smile gets wider as he looks to the others near him and nods at the crates. "So, er'we gonna pad our billfolds a bit while we're here?"

The pilot looks at Amelia's return with relief, and breathes a silent prayer of gratitude.

As if in answer, he turns to see the refueling complete, and thanks the refuelers as he pays for the petrol.

"Ready here, miss.  We can still get the bonus if we leave now.  All aboard!"

Rene' replies
I saw you were interested in the crates, and considering how all of us were nearly in a fight over alco-ol, I thought I would raise a possible solution to the financial disagreement.  And if we were going to continue with that line of discussion, I thought it would be good for everyone to understand the potential reward for any risk undertaken.

Overhearing a little of the hushed conversation, Amelia remarked in equally quiet tones, "Gentlemen, if you have an eye to 'imports', may I suggest that we take our precious aeroplane out of here first, then find a small unattended boat along the lake that we can borrow to shuttle a crate or two later tonight. Unless, of course, you're intending to buy the stuff - assuming it's even for sale..."

Rene nods
That is a wise suggestion

Harvey oversees the completion of fueling and looks to the group.

That will be $24 please

Charlie raises his eyebrows at the price, then slowly turns to the others with a sheepish "I haven't got that kind of money" look

   Si watches    Ian, if he didn't already pay for it or needs  a few  dollars  he   will  walk to the Pontoons,  reach into his  thick,Cavalry style ,pants pocket. and peel off   what Ian needs,..I get this  back...eh?

   Waving everyone  to get in the  Plane he  Grumbles   about  bonus money...as he casts the  Tie off. He nods to the fuel guys,..maybe we see you again, eh? about or week from now, when we bring back  out  fishing guide...

    he will stay on the  Float   until Ian gets   the  plane Moving  and he'll  hop  in, slamming the   Door. he'll point to the starboard side,everyone  who is able, look out the starboard  windows.. if you  see  some one raising  a weapon, get  down on the floor, and away from the  hull...

  when we get  out of  Gun Range... I'll tell you about the Phone call....

Charlie offers an arm to Sparks and then anyone else who wants it, to help them keep their balance stepping into the plane.

Harvey  looks at Wharfman #2 who is counting the money.  His face turns annoyed as he reaches over and snatches the clam shells from his hands.

Gimme That !

OOC
Alright folks, everyone is aboard.  Feel free to talk and just let me know where you are headed.

Iain enters the plane, and prepares for takeoff as quickly as possible...


Iain nods at Si.

"Life was simpler when we only had to worry about pine trees sticking through the wings..."

Then he glances back at their newest passenger.

"You haven't been to that fishing hole in awhile, my friend.  Are you sure enough that the fishing is still good?"

The plane lifts off without incident.  There seems to be a collective exhale by the group.

The African stranger brought on board points to Silver Lake, near Union Falls, on the map.

   Si     moves  towards  the Nose,  so he   can stand  By the cockpit and  Tall loud  enough for  all to hear ( shout even).

  ..I  came back to talk to this fellow,  because he remined  me of LAst time I was In New Orleans...... I hinted about the Peak easy..if they needed  stock.... And he warned  me we were in a very bad  Place.. and  asked to take him with us....

 he nods to the African.


 ..the Phone call... I answered on the Docks... was  from ou  friends  Up river.. they  said they were calling the local LAw.... and that if they saw  us.. kill us all, and Burn the Plane... They had the  plane described to a T... to the writing on the side....

 Then he adds,..for my part?.. I would have liked to  drop a lantern or a Match on that dock and send them all to  the 9 hells.. but there  are  more people here then just me to worry about.... Those  folks.. aren't good.... They  aren't just  trying to have a good time.. they  are trying to make money, and Kill anyone who gets in the way...

 Turning to  the African,..now?  what say you  tell us who you are.. for starters.. I'm Si... That's  Ian....That's Cahrile.. That's  Amelia.. Mickey... Rene.. and  drops his  hand   as he steadies himself  with the other hand on the  ceiling.

Amelia smiled at the newcomer. "What's your name, friend? And what's all this about fishing?"

Back on the dock. Mickey looks at the woman standing before him with barely hidden contempt. She had done two things to offend him. The first, she is a woman addressing men who hadn't given permission to speak to them. Second, she is a woman, who's place is not mettling in a man's business, but taking care of a house and a man's children. He watches as the lousyliz turns and heads to the plane. He knows the others tolerate this tramp, but Mickey has no tolerance her kind. As he walks to the plane, he puts his hand in his where the rosary is and asks God for guidance.
OOC: Attempts to hide his distain from Amelia with deception. 1d10+8=16


On the plane. Mickey listens to the others talk while looking over his disabled Thompson. He's also planning how he's going to get those crates lifted from the dock.

When Si addresses Mickey in the introduction to the new person on board, the African, he nods an acknowledgement towards the dark-skinned man and watches him intently. The others seem to have all the questions covered, but Mickey didn't notice anyone check the guy for weapons or any serious credentials. They just let him hop on the plane because he knew of a spot that the law wouldn't find them.

OOC: Awareness check: 1d10+12=21
     Sense motive check: 1d10+8=12
This message was last edited by the player at 22:57, Fri 03 Aug 2018.

Charlie gives the newcomer a wave and a nod.

  Darkshadow    looked over the folks,  as was a habit, he   pushed the Brim of his  hat up a bit.

  Ian  Moved in the direction  the African mentioned on the Charts, we're a   Motly Bunch, and that's  no lie... But    Ian's  the Man.. its his n plane..  Amelia , Renee.. they paid thier  way.... and Me  and  Charlie, well, we've  been around each other   for a more the one stampede.. bet hooked Up  with Ian,  as Muscle  and  such...

 He nods  to Doc  and Mickey,..an;..no one  else here threaten to kil us , or  steal our  Money..'cept them folks on the other  end of that phone line... So.. I'm thinkin'  we'll  Listen to this  fellow.. he could let us  die... could have even  turned us in?.. But he didn't..so we'll give him a big bunch of thanks, a free ride, an' he can go  from there...

The African man folds his arms together, his hands under his armpits.  The thick black wool turtleneck now shielding his hands from the cold.  He looks up from under his greek fishermans hat and responds to questions about him in his deep voice and strange accent.

I am Munro Kru from Liberia.  I have spent most of my life making a living on the water, the Moa River where I grew up, the Atlantic, the Mediterranean.  Some fishing, some trading, and some..................... well, in the line of business you folks engage in.

Three years ago I signed on as Pilot aboard the Damersham, Registered in Bermuda to Atlas Shipping Co.  We picked up a load of booze in Plymouth, England and took it to New Brunswick, then down Lake Champlain to Burlington.  I made a few runs with the crew and ship.  It was good, but eventually turned ugly. You could get killed for innocent mistakes, a bad remark or any hint of disloyalty.

Mr Renfeld runs the entire show, supplies all the major gangs in New York.  The booze is held in Burlington and shipped across to New York.  I've been quietly working for 3 years there, staying quiet and wondering what I was doing.

When you showed up.  I made a quick decision.  I'd wanted out for a long time.  I knew if I didn't say something to him (Si) he would try to trade booze and you'd all be dead.  I have enough ghosts on my back, I don't want more.

  Si leans  up against the  hull Keeping the one hand on the ceiling.well.. the Guy at the end of the phone  dodn't  want , none of us  breathing..., be nice to torch that  wharf.. all those  crates of Booze... make alot of   folks unhappy.. get a measure of revenge for stiffing us  on out money..

OOC
Amelia isn't buying it.  She see's the disdain on Mickey's face, but she's not sure what it's about.

Also Mickey, check the rules again.  I have you with a total of 24 with your Empathy and Moxie.  We are all new to the Rule Set.  So look if over and tell me what you think.

Rene' reaches behind Si, pulls an object from the wall with metallic spring twang.  Then hands it to Si.

It's the planes flare gun.


This message was last edited by the GM at 02:08, Sat 04 Aug 2018.

The man seems very honest to Mickey, and he feels happy they were able to help him, Mickey knows what it's like to be in a bad situation and needing help.

  Si grins when he see the  weapon...  alright  folks..... we are at a cross  roads  Here.....  We Get  Ian  to swing   back  around.. fire this flare Gun, and  alot of bastards lose alot of Money.. that  even's the  deck for what they didn't pay us, and  trying to kill us...Twice... only , they didn't know they were supposed to Kill us the second time.. You can damn well be they would have.

 ..but... there  will be  alot of  folks  after us, if they  the right people survive...but .. we also have to keep in mind..there are aot of people who want us  dead   right now...

 ..so? what do you all think...one shot.. lots of money goes up in flames..  and a few bad guys....or  we go on our merry way.. let the continue to  cause terror...

Rene' speaks up, in his own matter of fact way

Speaking of money, and how we have a disagreement and shortage of paying for alco-ol.  An immediate, short term reduction of 75% of the Alco-ol supply in the Northeast would like result in prices quadrupling in the week.  Depending on the amount of stockpiles destroyed.  We could see prices peak out at 20 times original value in 3-4 weeks.

By destroying the Alco-ol reserves on the dock, we would create our own market shortage we could then exploit.  Further more, we could invest in more Alco-ol in the next 24hrs to increase our claim to the market.

   Si  turns the  vary pistol over     and over in his  hand, and Looks at the   cartridge...that is  for you guys to know.. we won't get this chance  again...we were set  up to  die, but a scum ball trying to  get some money....with once shot, we  can destroy alot of that.. if  we Get low   enough, I  can help cause some distrust as well...

Amelia spoke up again. "I can only repeat my earlier suggestion, gentlemen. If we blow up the jetty from the air, any survivors will know it's us, and we'll be a lot more wanted than we are now. At present, we're only wanted for the price of a crate of booze. Gangsters will probably forget that in a month or two, with more important business to attend to. Destroy their stockpile and they'll never rest until they finish us.

"However, if we sneak back in a boat, take a whole lot more alcohol to sell, and then torch the place, they won't know who is responsible - they may even blame a rival. If an alcohol war starts, that might drive the price up even higher."

 from what Doc  says?, and the amount of folks that tried to shoot us.. this is more then about a couple cases of   booze..and?  they know, everyone in this plane knows...

 ..for my part..I'm not  fond  of folks  chasing me for no damn reason.. Blowing up that wharf.. well... that will make me happy... But this  ain't just me.. its us.. so , Lets  have a  Full count.... we keep  flying.. we still get chased, we send  that wharf  to hell , we still get chased, but have more fun..

Rene adds

We have the capacity for up to two of the crates, that's 972 pounds.  We would need a fairly large boat to carry 972 lbs.

However, we do not need to take that much and could manage a smaller boat.  We will have to account for time to transfer.

Mickey leans forward to participate in the conversation. A diversion on the other side of the building at the top of the hill could give us the time we need to get away with the hooch unseen.

Mickey pauses for a moment to allow anyone a chance to interject, then continues. Ther're probably autos on the other side that we didn't see from the dock. I could wander over there and make a stink, drawin' out as many of them as I can. Then meet you al later?
This message was last edited by the player at 05:29, Sat 04 Aug 2018.

  The  Halfbreed nods  slowly,..that's fine, sure..... but  we'd have to find a place to land   that you could get to, and  The  voice  said they already called the local law to come get us....if they didn't whack us first..... stealing the  booze is great,  but  then we have to sell it..and?   stil have to land the plane, steal a boat and steal the crates..or  a crate.. and get back... I have to believe the docks have  some kind of watch?


 With one  Pull of   a trigger, we  can  cause them more problems  then they ever though possible... and it won't change a damn thing  about them coming after us..because  whom ever this  guy is that set us up...wants  us dead...

 can't make anyone deader......but it will put pressure on Him...make folks not trust each other..maybe  even have to move   to a couple differant spots, where Honest cops  might nail them...

 ..Look at us, right now... not only have we  not lost anyone, but we picked up 3 people.. I sure  as hell don't want to  get some one  killed , because  we want a crate of Booze?

 he holds the Vary Pistol up, three  choices.... One shot, watch the palce burn.... or.. come back  and try to steal some stuff...and  watch the place  burn, and maybe lose a few people.... or?.. we  run..don't  do a damn thing... and don't lose  anyone.

Amelia shrugged. "You know where my vote is going."

Mickey shrugs. I agree with frenchy. Getting more dough would be worth the work. Can't do it on my own though.

He looks over at Munro, now feeling at ease with the man. Munro is it? Any boats nearby big enough to do what we want?
This message was last edited by the player at 08:26, Sat 04 Aug 2018.

Charlie listened intently as Si, Mickey, Rene, and Sparks talked it over.  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and said, "The problem with starting the whole wharf on fire is that Innocent people may get hurt or the way they make a living may get destroyed.  And setting a wharf on fire could get us a whole new bunch of attention from law enforcement, possibly across the state - like say all the way to Lake Placid. "
He slowly swiveled his head to look at everyone, "And there are going to be a lot of people in Lake Placid.  I don't think we will have any trouble selling our hooch."  Turning to Si directly, "We been together a long time pardner, so you know if we decide to do it, I will back your play.  But it feels to me like we are playing with house money and we should git while the gittins good"

 Darksahdow  leaned still pressed against hull.

 ....there are good points  all around... But   even right now.. we have  dirty cops from the area closing in, because the Phone voice sent word to them.....The LAdy  is  supposed  to be setting  up for weather reports..

 Grinning  at Charlie,..as far  as innocent folks, don't think there is  any? we're  Innocent? we got shot  at..and  some guy  wants to kill us  all , because we didn't kills each other..which means  our  two new friends here, are the  Harbingers..since  no one would have gave a good  Damn about  as  a day ago..

 right now... there's  some sort  of war going on.. we're caught up in it...

 ..but when you shake it down, Charlie's way is the smartest...Me.. I want to fire that wharf, and let  the gods handle who makes it out   and who don't... the Money we could get from  a crate of  the Booze, is gonna have folks looking  for us as well...

Iain sat quietly in the pilot's chair, alert for hazards... both literally and metaphorically... as he monitored the conversation.

After it seemed that the folks who were so inclined had said their peace... he said his.

"My friends...  I won't say that I don't feel tempted... but let's not throw good money after bad."

"Yes, Paul swindled us, and was in cahoots with the killers who tried to bump us off."

"But I don't want to try to fight murderers by becoming one, especially when nearby non-murderers could also get smoked."

"Yes, that was a dock chock full of crooks... but I don't remember God appointing me judge, and jury, and executioner over them."

"For it is written, 'Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.' "

"We were in the Lion's Den, and we escaped.  We have our fuel.  We have our cargo.  We have our plane.  We have our lives."

"This conspicuous plane already has a bulls-eye on it.  Let's not make it any bigger than we have to.  They have seen us, described us, called to bump us off.  If something happens the very same night, subtle or not, we'll be the prime suspects.  They will track us down, and they have a lot more firepower.  That isn't a fight we can win."

"Call me a Bluenose, but I shouldn't have tried to make money this way, even if for a good cause.  I don't want to risk lives any further for my own poor judgment."

"I'm hired to bring some folks safely to Lake Placid.  I'm hired to proclaim the wonders of Milk of Magnesia.  And I'm inclined, belatedly, to make sure that I am faithful to those jobs."

"If I got greedy, or vengeful, and lost even one of you all, it would haunt me until the end of my days."

OOC
barring any changes

IC
Iain pushes the Wasp Engine to three-quartes throttle and start to make a wide sweeping turn to the west and north.  Expected Flight time: 47 minutes.

Realizing he had little choice at this point, Mickey leans back in his seat, closes his eyes and takes his rosary in hand. The disabled Thompson rests on his lap. Noise in the plane's cabin makes Mickey's words practically inaudible. Only those sitting near him might hear."He who departs from evil makes himself a prey. The Lord saw it, and it displeased him that there was no justice."

Moments later he is contemplating his next move. He now has just $6 dollars to his name, a broken gun, no idea how he's going to get paid for this current job, and how he's going to get his car back. He's also bewildered by Doc's silence and inaction these past few hours.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:09, Sun 05 Aug 2018.

The aircraft stayed on a Westerly course, with Elizabeth town off it's starboard wing as it started to swing north.

Whiteface Mountain was snow capped and very pretty as the moon was rising and lighting the snow.  The snow only came about a third of the way down the mountain, certainly not enough for skiing or a lot of the events to be held at the Olympics.

The plane then arced back to the west, dropping down over the Saranac River, Silver Lake was just ahead and true to its name, it glittered in the moonlight.  Throughout the flight the clouds were beginning to break and the temperature was dropping.

Iain had no trouble making his approach, it was actually comforting an calming to him to be landing on a mountain lake...….. he was at home.  There was one cabin and a barn at the head of the lake near the stream falling away from Silver lake.  The cabin was dark.  Iain had to put the plane about 20 feet above the cabin to set down the plane, he landed is gently, and softly.

They were down in good order on Silver Lake.  Iain brought it back around to tie up on the tiny dock.  No boat there, but a Cedar strip canoe could be seen stored under the overhang of the cabin.

Charlie steps out of the plane, takes a few steps along the dock and turns in a 360 degree circle taking in his surroundings.


If it matters I made an Awareness roll  07:43, Today: Charlie - Cowboy rolled 19 using 1d10+9.  Awareness.

 Si Nodded, a bit  disappointed   they  wouldn't  torch the  Docks, a lot of good  could have come from that, along  with the bad.

  He handed the  Very Pistol back to  Renee, along  with the  flare...maybe  Next time...

 ..I'm Gonna take a walk aroun the Cabin, see if  anyone has been..or is here... He  Unslings  his  rifle, and  will  move counter  clock wise  from the Dock, about  20 or  so yards  deep i into   the tree line, keeping the babin  in sight  , to his  left  as he looks  for passage of people, vehicles and such. he Gives  Charlie a  whack on the shoulder  as he moves off.

It was another cold, damp jetty on another cold, damp lake, and this time there was nobody forcing her to go for a walk. Amelia snuggled down in her seat, as far from the broken window as possible, and waited for the men to decide if they were staying here. She still wasn't sure why they'd come, but she could afford to be patient - for now.

Iain looks at his companions as they file out of the plane thoughtfully, and nods at Si and Charlie.

"Take a look around, but don't go far.  Now that we can talk without shouting over the engine noise, we'll need a few minutes together."

Then he turns to their newest companion.

"Please tell me about this place, Munro Kru.  Who owns it?  Who uses it?  How often does anyone come here?"

Charlie looks around.  Everything at the cabin looks orderly.  An Axe hangs next to the door, it's blade not rusty but shiny.  There is an old ammo crate below it filled with kindling.  The other side of the door is framed by an old corn broom leaning against the wall.  Charlie sees no pine needles under the overhang of the cabin.  No lights are lit.


Si looks about around the cabin.  There has been activity nearby, recently.  One set of tracks, a man's.  He moves in short steps, not a lot of weight.  On the edge of the cabin on a slight Southern face exposure is a fenced in area.  A garden.  Several rows were covered in straw, most likely before winter.  A single set of tracks leads away from the cabin to the south.

Rene' walks up to the door and knocks, he opens it.
Vacant

Charlie looks at Si and Rene, "Looks like it is just us."  He walks back towards the plane to catch any conversation, but continues to keep a watchful eye on the surrounding area.

Neither Charlie or Si see anything else of concern.  Charlie does spot the last of a deer hindquarter hanging from the West side eve.

Si and Charlie would both know there is an unwritten code about shelter in winter.  If you find a place that's empty, you are welcome to use it to stay warm.  The code requires that you keep the firewood stocked, and leave the pantry as full as you got if you are able.

Rene' notes it's not completely freezing in here. Someone probably had a fire in here today.



Inside the small cabin is a single bed made from pine spindles for the frame, with hemp rope stretched between them, atop is an old feather mattress.  Under the bed is a bakelite chamber pot.  An old round oak table top is mounted to a fir tree stump with two rough chairs that do not match anything.  There is a stone fireplace with a large coffee pot filled with water hanging on the iron ready to be heated.


Across from the bed is a small kitchen area, with a shakers sideboard, in the cupboards are a variety of canned goods and the top shelf is nearly full of smoked canned fish.  All the staples are here, save bread.  A half quart of milk in a jar rests on the front window sill, one side chilled by touching the window.  Three eggs remain in a bowl below it.  Under the table in a corner are 4 empty whiskey bottles.


Rene inquires, Do you think one of you Outdoorsmen can get us a fire started?

Because I think we could all use a hot meal


Doc says, Bravo, I'll bring in some wood, then get supplies from the plane.

  Si  will  go ahead  and   work the fire Place, Once he  gets  it started. He  will say,.. I'm Gonna  chop some wood,  set up   for us, and for the  next folks.... call me  when its  ready... coffee, for sure!

  taking his  rifle , he moves out  side to were  the   logs and Cap pieces  are. while he  chops, he'll take a look  now and then like he's  getting  his breath , while looking  for  sign or  sound of  movement.

Mickey exits the plane and follows everyone to the cabin. When Doc volunteers to get wood and supplies Mickey follows him.

Walking close enough to Doc so he can hear Mickey's hushed words. "So what's the plan Vito? We stayin' with these twits?" "Half of them didn't even know they were dropping of the booze."

Mickey helps pick up bundles of wood and carry them inside. When he feels he's within ear shot of anyone else, he ceases to talk.
On the way to the plane with Doc, Mickey starts talking again. "They're all wet Vito. Our job was to get the booze and move on, not take a midnight tour of the upstate lakes. Every minute we're with them, we're losing money, and getting a lot closer the getting whacked while we fly around I'm this flying billboard."

  Si worked at splitting the   logs in cap  pieces  by the Light of the  window.  He didn't think any one  would  send anyone to night.

  And some one would have  to need to use the phone,before the found out it was ajar. He still wished they would have torched the  wharf... sure.. there  MIGHT.. be some innocent folks there.., but they were  still making money  from what  bad things the others  did.

Amelia noted from her seat in the plane that someone had lit a lamp in the cabin, and in its glow she could see Si chopping wood. That was promising in a way - it meant there would soon be a nice warm fire burning, but it also meant that they probably wouldn't be going to Lake Placid before morning. Which wasn't so promising.

What on earth were they doing here at an isolated cabin on an isolated lake? Things had gone pear-shaped since Iain had got himself mixed up in a bootlegging run. He should have stuck to Milk of Magnesia!

Once that fire was lit, she'd be asking some questions. The sooner they got rid of that booze and the criminals who had wanted to buy it, the better!

As the others gather around to eat, Iain bows his head for several moment as he silently gives thanks for his food.

"All right, friends.  Now that we are out of sight from those trying to kill us, and able to hear each other without shouting over an engine, and able to avoid freezing or starving... let's talk a bit more."

"We are here because I agreed with Munro Kru to come here, since he was kind enough to help keep us from getting killed."

"Please tell the others what you told me about this place, Munro.  Who owns it?  Who uses it?  How often does anyone come here?"


Iain nods.

"So that is why we are here now.  From here, we need to think things through a bit."

"I have a job to do, and that involves going to Lake Placid.  It may be better to go there tonight under cover of darkness, or it may be better to take advantage of the free lodging we already have here."

"As for the rest of you, you are welcome to come along if you wish, whether to Lake Placid or beyond.  I don't have the money or the fuel to make special request stops after this one, but you can hitch a ride until you find a good landing place for you."

"I've shared my thoughts and my constraints, both now and in the plane, but we haven't been able to talk it over much.  I am well aware that my decisions in the pilot's seat affect us all, and I don't make them lightly.  I am just a man.  If you have further thoughts, say your peace, because I want to hear them."

He tucks into his food as he listens carefully to their responses...
This message was last edited by the player at 04:45, Mon 06 Aug 2018.

Rene' goes to work making a meal.  He quickly assembles a biscuit type dough, eggs, milk, flour baking powder, salt which he fries in the dutch oven over the fire for speed. while they cook he hastily goes about cutting vegetables and slicing some of some smoked bacon that was in the plane. The fry bread is passed to the group with some butter.

He then starts to cook a soup in the same kettle while folks get a bite to eat.  When he has his soup assembled he sits near the fire and stirs it.  Saying,

Since this is the first time since we've all been together that we have not been in mortal danger.  I should like to have a drink with all of you, make a toast that we've all made it through the evening alive.  Then break bread and get to know you all a bit better.

It's clear we're all reasonable people, if we had not been, we would not have gotten this far.   Thanks to that.  I think we should sacrifice one bottle out of the plane in celebration.


Doc says, I couldn't agree more  He produces a silver engraved pint sized flask from his jacket, takes a sip and passes it around the room.

 ....i'm here because i signed on, we have a job to do, after that? we just have to see which way the next pay check  sends us...

  ..I really do feel, we should have lit up the dock... Shouted somthing like,  'Dutch says Hi ".. and let them take  each other out... anyone else caught it the net..well... we we're in the next until a  few hours ago... so..The gods  could  chose whom they wish to deal with.

Amelia had emerged from the plane once Si had got the fire going, and was now eating as hungrily as the rest. She listened to Iain and Si's comments and added her own thoughts.

"Perhaps it's as well that we didn't set fire to the dock. As I said before, a busy gangster isn't likely to remember a single missing consignment for long - or at least not actively - but we'd be his number one enemy if we destroyed his entire stock. Besides, we now know where he keeps it. We could come back any time and finish the job if he doesn't forget about us. This way, we keep our options open.

"May I suggest that while we're here in the wilderness, we unload the alcohol and hide it deep in the woods, somewhere along the lake? That way, if we're stopped by police, gangsters, or anyone else, we're not carrying a latent prison (or death) sentence in the back of the plane. When we've found a customer, we can come back and collect it - or even give the customer a treasure map.

"I would also suggest that as soon as we reach civilization, Iain, you find another advertizing sponsor and a signwriter. Make the plane a little less traceable.

"Now, personally, I'd prefer to sleep in a proper hotel in Lake Placid tonight, especially since I already have a reservation, but I can't fly the plane."

Having said her piece, she continued eating.

 looking around the table, he  points with his utensil at Amelia,..She has the right of it.... we are being paid to help her get to   Lake Placid  and set up....we should honors that, for certain..

 ..Mungro  may  come or go as he wishes?... We  got him out of there in payment  for hsi warning...

 with a  nod of his ehad  at Mickey and Doc,..these two , were ready to kill us, rather  then believe what  we said.... it is because of them,  that Dutch fellow wants  us dead?...we saved them , by taking them with us.. we owe  no debt to them... I say we  take the LAdy where she wishes  to go...  we can  use the    booze  as fule , if  we need it bad enough..should leave a bottle or two here  for the  fellow whose  cabin we are using...

"Whilst I don't mind sleeping on the floor, Lord knows I have dun it enough, I do like Flyboy's idea of flying up there at night.  That may give us time to either hide the plane or at least paint over the Milk of Magnesia sign."  He takes off his hat and smooths the inside of the brim, "I am not fond of having a target on my back."
With a look at Sparks he adds, "And the lady has a point, sleeping in a real bed would be an improvement on the floor."

Mickey casually listens to the conversation, and has no problem with everything being said, but when the trail guide tries to lay blame on him and Doc, Mickey gets angry. As Si finishes up his lecture, Mickey puts his unfinished plate of food down, leans forward in his chair and glares directly at Si Darkshadow. His eyes alight with righteous anger, and his face turning light shades of pink. His words are measured and restrained, dripping with malicious intent.

"You sit there and accuse Vito and me of bringing trouble on your head, while at the same time talking about killing people you don't know or have a reason to, because you want to make something go boom. Knowing full well it'll create an even bigger problem. And now you're trying to place blame on us. Like you just happen to stumble across a box of booze and just happen to find someone interested in selling it like you were at a Sunday market?"

Turning to Lain, the fire in his eyes less intense.
"If you hadn't tried to mess in something you knew nothing about, you wouldn't have gotten your employers tangled up in this mess."

Addressing the whole group, no flare of angry emotion evident in his eyes or manner.
"Me and Vito were caught up in the same double cross you were, and didn't kill you on the spot because we chose to believe you weren't part of Dutch's gang. Sparing the lot of you was a favor."

He stands up and walks out of the cabin, adjusting his overcoat to guard against the cold or possibly to keep his emotions bundled up inside.

 Si  laughs as the  fellow  begins his tirade,..now ya  see? that's were you;er  wrong... Just being wrong to chose your type of work in the first place?..

 The Fellow   storms  out  and Si Just shakes his eha d as  he   continues to  eat...and speak to everyone else,..now them folks, I wanted to see blow up?.. they'er part of the bad guys... if  one of them answered the phone, we'd all be dead, 'cept  Ameila...

 and ..lets facer the truth of it... the two of them weren't  killing  any of us..might have  wounded  me..but the  wiseguy's weapon didn't even work... and would have been less they effect shootin' out that window..

 The he points the utensil at Doc,..now then, Doc...isn't your 'employer' then fellow who got iced, and  got this  whole ball rolling...

"Mr Darkshadow," said Amelia, very formally, "Recriminations will get us nowhere. That man is perfectly correct when he says that you came into this affair with your eyes open. The only people who are truly innocent in this are myself and Rene - and if we're willing to help everyone out, I think you should be, too.

"You were all willingly involved in a bootlegging operation and you all got double crossed by this Paul fellow and his Dutch friend. What we need to do now - all of us together - is to get out of the situation with our lives, and hopefully a measure of compensation for our trouble. We're not going to do that by arguing amongst ourselves.

"Let's decide what's going to happen next, rather than arguing over what has already happened. Now, I'm going to have a word with our friend outside.

---

Amelia stepped out of the cabin to find the Driver.
"Mr Callahan? I've spoken to Mr Darkshadow. I completely agree with you that there is no 'innocent' and 'guilty' now. We're all in this situation together and we need to work together to get out of it. Let's just sell the alcohol that we're in possession of, split the money in whatever proportion we agree on, and put our lives back on track. Arguing amongst ourselves will achieve nothing.

"Would you come back inside with me, please, and let's discuss our next step?"

Mickey is standing where the dock and shore meet, his back to the cabin. He has a cigarette pinched between his thumb and index finger, the rest of his fingers create a sort of dome over the rest of the lit tobacco stick. As Amelia approaches he turns slightly, then slowly exhales smoke and warm breathe. No words are said as Amelia stands near him and starts speaking. Mickey's face remains blank of emotion as he listens.

When Amelia finished talking, he takes a slow drag and exhales just as slowly. Blowing the smoke away from Amelia. "Ma used to tell us kids to never refuse a helpin' hand. Ya take the help and then do whatever you can to pay it back. She'd also say the day your pride can put food on the table is the day you can refuse help. I'm not sure what she meant by that last one though."

Mickey takes another drag, then exhales as he talks."I'll be in when I'm done with this."As he lifts his cigarette to indicate what he's referring to, a barely perceptible smile appears on his face, but quickly disappears.

  Reaching up to grab the  brim of  is  , slightly damn hat, ..As you say, Ma'am... But for our part? This was  Just a one time  delivery..we didn't make a Living  out of such things..

 He looked  at Ian  and Charlie  as she left  and gave  one shake of his  head, and he  finished  his   food, and began to  pump the sink handle to  start washing things up.

Amelia stood looking across the dark water as she listened to Mickey.
"Your mother sounds like a very sensible and practical woman, Mr Callahan." She gave a slight nod, probably lost in the darkness. "I'll leave you to your cigarette."
She moved back to the cabin.

---

Amelia entered the cabin again and gave a brief smile to the assembly. "I believe Mr Callahan will be in shortly," she said. "So what's our next positive step?"
This message was last edited by the player at 09:22, Tue 07 Aug 2018.

   Si Looks over from the sink,Right now, You and yours  are the next step.. you paid, so we have to  honor  our Obligation... But IAn's the man to take to, he has the plane. Me  and Charlie  are just Muscle  and  hired Guns..

  Once  we get you settled in out there, I guess  we'll have to  try to hawk our services...

Doc has sat in the corner, eating little more than one biscuit, but now he speaks.
I say we sit here, and drink this hooch.

Hey, if we drink all the evidence, we gots no beef with the law.

He raises a bottle, takes a swig and slumps a little.

It's very clear he's gotten himself stumbling drunk

Rene' is finishing up with cleaning the dishes and re-seasoning the dutch oven.
With towel in hand as he rubs bacon grease into the dutch oven.

We should go on to Lake Placid as soon as we can.

It favors us all.
Lady Amelia is correct, we lighten our risk by stashing the booze here.  Iain and his crew have agreed to take her, and frankly I'd like to see this Olympiad and what its about.  I'd like to speak to some true Frenchmen, not this butchered Canadian Francais'.

It seems to me, that once folks in our party adept at dealings such as the alco-ol, spirits will rest much more easy.  Mickey seems to have a handle on that sort of thing.


Personally, we should stash the plane here.  Too many eyes have seen it, and as have been Pointed out, it is rather distinctive.  And we still need to retrieve Mickey's car.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:02, Tue 07 Aug 2018.

Charlie cleans his plate with a biscuit, stands up, carries his plate and utensils over to the sink and locates a towel to dry off dishes with once Si has washed them.  Over his shoulder he calls," Leaving the plane here might not be a bad idea if Flyboy can bear it.  And if Mickey and Doc don't mind leaving the hooch here it would simplify some things."

In a more questioning tone he asks, "But then how are we going to get to Lake Placid and considering the "heat" shouldn't we just assume Mickey's car is a lost cause?"

Amelia gave a slight shake of her head. "Charlie's right. Whilst I agree that we should probably give the plane a new coat of paint as soon as we can, Rene, I don't see how we can leave it here, unless we're going to hike fifty miles through the forest. The only alternative transport we seem to have here is a small canoe.

"As for the car, I imagine the bad guys will be keeping an eye on it for just that reason. Picking that up will probably be suicidal.

"Of course, give it a week and we could perhaps hire someone to pick it up for us and drop it somewhere else. Maybe we could do that a few times before we actually touch it ourselves. It might not be a complete lost cause."

  Si  nods  at the folsk  helping clean up,..here is  something we must remember..we  must  get the LAdy and her  equipment to  the  Olympics....we need the plane  for that....The Plane is also a  certain way to get away from  the  Evil Gang folks....they won't follow us into  the  deep forest..and  if they do......they won't  come back out.

 ..If  we leave the plane and it is  found, the poor  fellow who owns this  cabin will be thought to be in on, what ever  thing  , this Dutch fellows  says is happening...

 frowning  at Doc,..and   we must remain sharp and not allow ourselves  to fall into  the welcoming arms of  darkness....

 he   chuckles,..the  CAr?  at best..is lost to us... perhaps  , after  we  deliver  Good Amelia  to her  job, we might  be able to come back for it from inland....but... it will be looked for...

 we Just need Boss Man here to  make a decision... The  two gangsters, could stay behind, try to work they way back to  the  car.... Mungru..  Needs to decide  what he wishes to do... Rene said he wishes to go  to the Olympics... me and Charlie , well  we're  with  Ian..

Entering the cabin, shortly after talking with Amelia, Mickey removes his gloves as he walks to where Doc is nursing a bottle of shine, and takes it from him. He hands the drunk Italian a plate of food. "Here, you need to eat something." Mickey then tilts the bottle back and downs a bit of the brown liquid before putting the cork back in the bottle.

His rosary is in his other hand as he addresses the group. "I only see one option."

"We fly to Placid now, drop off the dame and frenchie, and anyone else wanting to stay, refuel, then head back down this way so I can get my car. At this point I'm considering the original deal a wash anyway."

He looks at Lain.
"I can get the booze sold in Placid and you can keep half my share for fuel costs to get me to my car. Paul is going to have to make up the difference somehow."

"After you drop me off about a mile from my car, and if no one's there, I can meet you back here to take you the rest of the way back to placid. Leaving your plane here for now. "
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 20:03, Tue 07 Aug 2018.

  Si Looks  at the fellow   and  chuckles,..now?  why would Ian want to fly his plane , back to where  we got shot up?  Look.. we don't owe you a damn thing... not only did we get shorted our Money, but  we have a window to patch up?... Your  CAr?.. doesn't  help any of us here...hell, there's a damn good chance they took it with them

  ..if you can  sell the  bathtub stuff in Placid?.. you'll have  Money to catch a ride  back?...

OOC
I posted distances to Lake Placid in the Speak Easy thread, and you have plenty of fuel for a long trip.  No need to refuel there.

To give you other options. Lake Placids opposite shore is over 2 miles away from the town with a large island with a hill on it inbetween.

Iain observed quietly and ate as the others said their peace.  Although he did his best to keep a neutral face, his eyes betrayed some discouragement as the sparks flew between Si and Mickey, and encouraged approval at Amelia's intervention.

With the group reunited, he chose this moment to intervene, before Amelia's peacemaking was undermined further.

"Peace, friends.  Thank you for your thoughts.  Here are mine..."

"First off, I wish to apologize, in front of you all, to Amelia and René.  My poor judgment did get you tangled up in this mess.  I hope to be able to make it up to you."

"Now to you all, I am hired to bring some folks to Lake Placid.  They wish to arrive this evening, they do not desire to arrive with illicit cargo, and they do not want their transport to continue being an obvious target for organized crime.  That seems pretty reasonable to me."

"Therefore, I will be flying to Lake Placid as soon as we can stash the cargo somewhere nearby that will not endanger our host."

"Once our paying passengers have safely reached their current destination with their equipment, we can look into acquiring plane paint and cargo customers."

"Hopefully still under cover of darkness, I can fly the plane back here, where we can sleep, eat, repaint in private, and reload the cargo."

"That way, the Milk of Magnesia and the cargo will never be seen together."

"I cannot risk the plane further by flying anywhere near our two previous destinations.  Even with a new paint job, they are bound to be suspicious of any plane resembling this one approaching those areas.  However, Mickey can use his share to hire transport from Lake Placid to where his car was last seen, if he so desires.  That should be safer for him as well as for us."

"I expect that most folks will be coming, though Doc might be more comfortable here sleeping things off.  Munro, you are welcome to come, or to stay, as you wish."

"Any last words, heated objections, gushing praise, or other observations before departure?  If so, speak now, or forever hold your peace..."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:50, Wed 08 Aug 2018.

 ..as I have said, we signed on with you, we need to  get our payign customers to thier   destination... anything  else , must be directed  at  getting the plane safe..

Mickey puts his rosary in his pocket, then  looks at Si and glares. He's about to say something when Lain chimes in about keeping his charges safe.

He shrugs after Lain finishes talking. "I'll ride with you until Placid. Keeping Doc here is a good idea." He keeps his other thoughts to himself while gathering up what little fear he has.

A spot to hide the booze is easy to find, a quick moonlight canoe ride to the far end of the lake and the booze can be stashed in the woods.

Rene' takes 1 bottle of whiskey from the plane and some of their food to restock the trappers cupboards and pay for any inconvenience.
I'll stay here with Doc, just in case the trapper comes back while Doc is sleeping this off.


With everything taken care of.  The remainder of the party board the plane and make the short flight to Lake Placid.  They land at a quiet dock that appears to be used only in Summers, just North of Sawmill.

When the group gets out of the plane they step on a rickety old dock, but the pilings are still solid and will tie up the plane nicely.  After being on the shore for a few moments, the buzz of the Pratt & Whitney engine subsiding from their ears, they hear acoustic music coming from the sawmill.

OOC
Feel free to have conversations here, but we will now be moving to the Chapter 2 thread.
And the party can post there now

Since the other thread is currently set inside the sawmill speakeasy, perhaps we should converse here until we make our entrance.

Amelia was glad to be at Lake Placid at last. Not that she was actually at a comfortable hotel yet, but she recognized the need to keep the plane out of sight until they'd carried out the painting they'd discussed after dinner.

The music sounded like a party. After the last time, she wasn't sure she was in any mood to party, but the light and warmth it promised were still a draw. This time, she would follow the men's lead. It was only a short hop from Silver Lake, and she wasn't as cold as she'd been after the journey from Canada. She could probably wait long enough for men to arrive at a decision. Probably.

   Looking to the  light, Si Nods  to Charlie and they  move to  take  Point... as they near the Building, the sound of the Music..changes a bit... and there are angry and  surprised shouts.....

 Si shoulders  his   rifle,  , pointing to Himself..  then 3 fingers, for  Charlie.... and  he enters....

>>>>> Si  to Lodge

Iain continues in Chapter 2...  :)