Thursday, October 5th, 2000
0745hrs.
Woods, approx. 20km East-Northeast of Szczucin, Poland
40 F
Scattered Clouds; low ground fog


Somewhere in your crude but well camoflaged bivuoac, looking like something Robinson Carusoe may have once inhabited, your long-dormant radio crackles to life. In fact, it's been weeks since you've been contacted by the outside world, and you only switch it on at the appointed hours out of a dogged- and, you've been thinking lately, perhaps misplaced- sense of duty.

The transmission is encrypted, using a new iteration of the same rotating system you've come to expect. The caller checks out, employing all of the proper call-signs and recognition phrases. The caller is unfamiliar but one of last transmissions fortold his call-sign. It is all very unexpected, but appears legitimate. After acknowledging receipt, you decode the following message,


Buddha; Pitchfork

Priority Delta Lima four-four-nine

You are instructed to leave Deer Park; assess Rhubarb

We will be dropping by for Tea and Biscuits; we'll bring the Champagne


Actions?

[Private to Stanislaw Switek: OOC: A bit cheesy, but the best I can muster at the moment. Pitchfork is Clarence's CIA handle. Deer Park is your wooded hideout. Rhubarb is the bridge. Tea and Biscuits is the noon hour; Champagne indicates we'll be travelling via the river.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:34, Sun 25 Nov 2007.