Ch. 21: Swiecie to Grudziadz.   Posted by Cap'n Rae.Group: 0
Jelena Tamm
 player, 24 posts
 Red Army Deserter
 Silent Hunter
Thu 2 Jul 2015
at 14:39
Re: You're the Best Around
Jelena watched the group, seeing if any of them would offer her a drink or a thank you.

If they didn't, she'd intervene herself and ask to come with them.
Mariusz Tokarski
 player, 1222 posts
 Teenaged Partisan
 mark 101
Thu 2 Jul 2015
at 15:04
Re: You're the Best Around
Mariusz looked at the lone Russian, "I'm sure the others would like to thank you for helping us. Would you like to come to our boat and have a drink and something to eat?"
Eric Phillips
 player, 23 posts
 18 Bravo, 10th SFG
 Spartan-117
Thu 2 Jul 2015
at 16:28
Re: You're the Best Around
In reply to Mark Scully (msg # 248):

Eric nods and begins assembling his gear for the op.

Wz.35 Vis                                  0.95 kg   (Polish Eagle Pre-War Model)
8-round Magazine of 9mmP x3                0.3  kg
Brass Knuckles                             Neg.      (Heisman & 2 Rose Bowl Rings)

Thermal Fatigues                           6.0  kg   (Polish Wz.93 Pantera)
AN/PRC-139 2km Hand Radio w/Covert Headset 1.35 kg
Medium Field Dressing x2                   0.22 kg
Personal Medical Kit                       0.2  kg
Flashlight                                 0.2  kg
Multi-Tool                                 0.2  kg
Compass and Map                            0.1  kg
Lighter, Disposable                        Neg.
Wristwatch, Military                       Neg.
Sunglasses                                 Neg.
Earplugs                                   Neg.


Mark Scully:
”Fourteen rounds. Going kinetic is our last resort, but I guess if the shit does go down we better make every shot count. Take down a couple of Ivans and try and get their AK’s?” It's phrased as half statement, half question.


“You've heard the saying, the only purpose for a pistol is to fight your way back to the rifle you should have never laid down?” Eric asked with grin.
Jan Cerny
 player, 1736 posts
 Sergent Chef, FFL
 Mahatatain
Thu 2 Jul 2015
at 22:43
Re: You're the Best Around
Jan took a swig from the bottle offered by the Russian but it didn't help to improve his mood.  He was thoroughly pissed off with himself, embarrassed even, that he hadn't been able to quickly take out a drunk Russian thug.  And to make it even worse once he had finally landed a solid blow the man had thought better of continuing with the brawl and had called time.  Jan was angry and wanted to continue with the fight, even though he realised that that was impossible now and that ending it where they had was probably the best outcome for the Kommandos.

He took a second swig from the bottle to further placate his frustration.  It was a harsh brew but it served its purpose for the moment.

"We order go back to boat?" he asked, noting out of the corner of his eye that Mariusz had made a friend.
Anastasjia Kovac
 player, 16 posts
 U.S. State Department
 Tegyrius
Thu 2 Jul 2015
at 23:37
Re: You're the Best Around
"Okay, you got me, Sarge" Ana admits, still grinning.  "Sarajevo, not Chicago."

Noting Jan's mood, she murmurs quietly to him in Czech, "Hey.  Let it go, all right?  This is how you exchange business cards in a town like this.  You'd have had him once he started getting tired."
Konrad Bayer
 player, 1931 posts
 Hauptman, Pzg
 the fusilier
Fri 3 Jul 2015
at 02:07
Re: You're the Best Around
Bayer climbs off the man he'd pinned to the ground and takes a step back, finding himself being aided by Tucker - to which he nods his thanks. It was at that moment his radio crackled with Griet's voice. Then toggling the transmit switch he replies, "King, roger... back soon. Out."

"Is everyone ok?" he asked aloud, taking a step back from the Russians and back to his own people. Busted lips and sore muscles was one thing, broken bones another. Bayer then glances at his watch, noting the time, and briefly estimates whether they was still time to continue. Probably not.

"We're heading back." he announces. Then just to be sure nobody thought it had anything to do with the scrap, he adds, "We're out of time."
Jelena Tamm
 player, 25 posts
 Red Army Deserter
 Silent Hunter
Fri 3 Jul 2015
at 13:37
Re: You're the Best Around
In reply to Mariusz Tokarski (msg # 250):

"Yes, please", Jelena said, "I would in fact like to join your crew".

She looked over the others to see how receptive they were to the whole idea.
Robert 'Tuck' Tucker
 player, 1667 posts
 P Sgt., 10th MD
 Corkman
Fri 3 Jul 2015
at 14:13
Re: You're the Best Around
Konrad Bayer:
"Is everyone ok?" he asked aloud, taking a step back from the Russians and back to his own people. Busted lips and sore muscles was one thing, broken bones another. Bayer then glances at his watch, noting the time, and briefly estimates whether they was still time to continue. Probably not.

"I think most of the damage is pride Boss.  Something going on, on the Queen?" Robert says referring to mostly him and Jan's performance in the fight.
Mariusz Tokarski
 player, 1223 posts
 Teenaged Partisan
 mark 101
Fri 3 Jul 2015
at 15:22
Re: You're the Best Around
"I'm sure that our Captain will listen to your request, we could do with more people."

"Hey! Kaptain Bayer, can this lady come with us? I've invited here."
he asked Bayer.
Konrad Bayer
 player, 1932 posts
 Hauptman, Pzg
 the fusilier
Fri 3 Jul 2015
at 16:46
Re: You're the Best Around
Mariusz Tokarski:
"Hey! Kaptain Bayer, can this lady come with us? I've invited here." he asked Bayer.


"Very well. Let's go." Bayer replies, while already on the move back the way to the riverside.

This message was last edited by the GM at 19:59, Fri 03 July 2015.

Cap'n Rae
 GM, 3030 posts
 Tour Director
 Narrator
Fri 3 Jul 2015
at 18:18
My Dinner With Andrei

The beaten Red Army soldiers limp off, carrying their most badly injured, presumably towards the hospital. There seem to be no hard feelings on their part. In fact, the Kommando shore party seems to have earned at least a little of their respect. Apparently, for whatever reasons, the Russians were just in the mood for a good ol' fashioned mid-morning street fight. Now that it's been beaten out of their systems, they're good. Stranger things have happened.

Tucker took the worst of it, but he'll be OK. Craig checks his teeth to make sure that they're all still firmly embedded. Aside from a cut inside his bottom lip, he's whole. Ana's left breast throbs dully. Aside from Lizzie, Mariusz, and the new girl (Jelena), everyone's got a few bruises and scrapes to remind them of the morning's unplanned activity.

The shore party makes a U-turn and follows their tracks back towards the tug, new recruit in tow. They cross paths with Scully and Phillips, the duo of American special operators on its way to the town square to scout out the meeting venue.

Griet briefs the arrivals on her brief meeting with Major Lagunov, as well as the follow-up plan to lunch with General Zolnerowich in the old town. Those heading back into the city have about an hour and a half to clean up before the expected arrival of the Red Army chauffeurs.




About a block from the town square, Scully and Phillips are stopped by a lone ORMO patrolman, a middle-aged man wearing a dark blue greatcoat and carrying a slung AKM with the magazine removed. He questions them briefly and, although clearly a little suspicious, allows them to carry on about their business without searching them. He does, however, follow them into the square, trying and failing to avoid their notice.

The town square is like most in central Europe, a trapezoidal open area hemmed in by old, once colorful, multistory red tile-roofed buildings. Shops and eateries used to occupy nearly all of the surrounding buildings' ground floors. Now, only a few remain still in operation. As long as it's directly on the square, it shouldn't be too hard to pick out the general's favorite.

The square itself is mostly filled by a patchwork maze of dozens of semi-permanent stalls constructed out of all manner of materials- wood, sheet metal, cardboard, canvas, whatever provides a modicum of shelter for the sellers and their wares. Vendors sell all manner of items, from food (mostly bread, some fish, a bit of meat, and a very few vegetables), to hand tools, pots and pans, books, and assorted tchotchkes. The quantity and selection of the goods stocking the shelves and countertops is pretty patchy. Although there a quite a few people wandering the market, it appears that little business is actually taking place. What transactions Scully and Phillips witness appear to be barter, although they also notice some pink paper bills changing hands.

Straight ahead, about 50m due north up the narrow lane that Scully and Phillips are currently walking along, they spot a promising venue. It's still got all of its glass windows, one of which bears an ornate stenciled sign in red letters reading 'Andrei's'. A few wrought iron tables and chairs rest on the cobbles just outside. It's the nicest place that Scully and Phillips have seen in the whole square.

As they pass a cluttered stall remarkable only for its blue tarp roof, the two Americans are assailed by a friendly, obnoxiously loud cockney-accented English voice,

"Oy, mates! I 'aven't seen you 'ere before. What ya lookin' for? I can get ya whatever ya need. Name's Greg. Pleased ta meet ya."

The owner of the voice is a small mustachioed man with curly, jaw-length, prematurely gray hair. He's probably only in his early to mid-thirties but war ages men. He's wearing a blue windbreaker buttoned up to the throat and British DPM trousers tucked into worn combat boots. The stall with the blue tarp roof is apparently his. It's plywood counter is cluttered with all manner of items- lighters, playing cards, knives, candles, a complete set of billiard balls. His more valuable goods- soap, condoms, cigarettes, liquor, some clothing- are on a rickety metal shelf at the back of the stall. Glancing back the way they just came, Phillips spots the ORMO patrolman peeking from around a stall selling poultry. In fact, several of the nearby locals are looking the Americans' way now. In the opposite direction, a group of about 8 uniformed men has just arrived at Andrei's, leaving two armed sentries just outside the front door. This, most likely, is the Soviet general's party.




A few minutes before noon, two vehicles arrive dockside, Lagunov's UAZ and a Mercedes G-Class (known in the Bundeswehr as a 'Wolf'). The Kommandos pile aboard and the two-vehicle convoy pulls away, steadily climbing through winding cobblestone streets towards the town square.

Using side streets, the drivers skirt the main square, stopping in a narrow lane at its northern edge.

One of the drivers steps out and leads them a few steps to the café- Andrei's, if the sign on the venue's large front window is to believed. Two armed guards stand on either side of the front door. The driver open the door and ushers the Kommando representatives inside (those who do not wish to attend the lunch meeting are free to wander the marketplace). The diners enter a large room lit by a couple of candles and the diffused sunlight coming in through the large front window. Two large rectangular tables have been pushed together and a middle-aged waiter (Andrei, perhaps?) is busily finishing setting the table. There are two more armed guards by the entrance to the kitchen. Several officers, including Lagunov, sit at the long table, clustered at the dim end furthest from the entrance. They stand as the Kommando enters. Lagunov makes the introductions. The guests are seated and, after a few customary pleasantries are exchange, the first course of lunch is served- a thin, orangish broth with a few bits of pasta floating about in it, accompanied by crusty bread rolls and mugs of laager.

General Zolnernowich begins the meeting with a toast. His aide de camp translates from Russian to Polish.

"To the end of this goddamned war."

He takes a long pull at his beer and then sets the mug down with an odd sense of conviction for such a mundane act.

"It's over, you know. The Americans are going home- an evacuation fleet is mustering at Bremerhaven, as we speak. The Germans are pulling back to behind their new border. They won their Grossdeutchland in the east, now let them fight the French for whatever's left. We're not chasing them. The Poles just want to be left alone. They're no danger to anyone but themselves. It's over. There's really nothing here worth fighting for.

"My boys just want to go home too, see what's left, start rebuilding their lives. The only reason my division hasn't just melted away is General Winter. I've promised them that come spring, we will go home too. But, orders are orders, and mine are to hold this city indefinitely."


Zolnernowich smiles ruefully.

"Let me ask you this. It's a question that was posed to me first on my first day of classes at the General Staff Academy. What makes a good general? Is it winning battles? Devotion to duty? Loyalty to the Party? I used to think so. Not anymore. I've been to too many funerals, buried too many good Russian boys. They fought and died for Mother Russia, yes, but they also fought for me, because they trusted me. Because I told them that I loved them and that I would take care of them. I've done my best to do so, and I won't put another Russian boy into the dirt without damn good reason. I know the answer now. A good general is one who takes care of his soldiers, one who doesn't unquestioningly lead them to slaughter for no discernible purpose.

"Several weeks ago, the commander of the Baltic Front, Field Marshall Anton Chilikov, my superior, ordered me to detach three battalions of my troops and send them north for 'security operations' along the coast. Of course, being a good soldier, I complied with his order. Then I learned what they were really used for: to capture a fucking pile of radioactive rubble- a port city that we dropped three nuclear warheads on three two years ago! Why? It's not for me to question why, he says. Right. Only two battalions came back from Gdansk, and the goddamn city didn't fall! Chilikov is an imbecile and a madman. He has no 'front' to command. He moves little flags around on a huge map in his castle headquarters and issues commands to units that no longer exist, and he thinks that this makes him a field marshal.

"And now the son of a bitch is demanding more of my men-more cannon fodder for one of his pointless 'offensive operations'. No, I won't send them. Not again.

"At first, I made excuses. Then I stopped taking his calls. He sent couriers; I sent them right back. Then he ordered my own staff to arrest me."


The general flashes a brief smile at his chief of staff. Abruptly, it disappears, leaving no trace.

"This arrived yesterday."

He opens a manila folder and slides a glossy black-and-white photo across the table. Pictured is some sort of mechanical device- a smooth, cylindrical silver casing nestled in a web of multicolored wires . Next to it is a party propaganda rag- a single sheet of newsprint with title 'Red Star' and the dateline of the first of November, 2000. If the photo's a forgery, it's a damn good one.

"Do you know what this is?" he asks, pointing to the image in the photograph. "It's a nuclear demolition charge. A small nuclear warhead, no bigger than a piece of luggage- I think the Americans call it a 'backpack nuke'. It might be small, but it can still level several city blocks. The message is clear, no?

"If I don't send more troops, Chilikov will destroy Grudziaz- 1,200 troops and nearly 20,000 civilians. He has his hands on a most powerful trump card. It makes little sense for him to waste it on my command. I'm sure he has other plans for it. If he does nuke Grudziaz, he's sure as hell not getting the troops he wants. He's probably bluffing, but I can't take that chance. I'm going to turn myself in, and I would like you to take me to Chilikov's headquarters in Malbork, myself and a few of my men. It's on your way and, of course, you will be paid for your services.

"I can offer you papers granting you safe passage through Soviet and Lublin government-controlled territory and enough food to last you all the way to the coast. We can step outside if you need time to discuss this offer."



Your Turn.

-

This message was last edited by the GM at 01:22, Sat 04 July 2015.

Griet Niewiadomska
 player, 869 posts
 CPO, Polish Navy
 mark101
Fri 3 Jul 2015
at 19:32
Re: My Dinner With Andrei
Before they headed off for the meeting, Griet gave the new Russian a searching look, "Thank you for helping my crew. If you wish to have a berth with us I'll need to know something of your background: what skills you have will be particularly useful. Would you mind telling me now or wait until I have conducted the meeting?"




A pass written by a General that was on his way to his own execution was unlikely to be of much use Griet thought to herself, but food on the table was food on the table.

"I can sympathise with your concern for your men," she said, "my own concerns centre around my boat and my crew. I would appreciate time to be alone to discuss this, but we can step outside if you wish. Your guards can watch us and you can remain inside. Whichever way you would like to do this I need to know what timescale we have. Our boat needs to be repaired which means time to locate a part or the means to fabricate one and then time to make the repair. That will take from two to three days from the time we have the materials. If that is a difficulty, we are not any help to you I'm afraid. If that is acceptable to you, we can discuss our answer once we know whether you would prefer to wait inside or out."


Griet
Negotiations group

This message was last edited by the GM at 19:46, Fri 03 July 2015.

Robert 'Tuck' Tucker
 player, 1668 posts
 P Sgt., 10th MD
 Corkman
Fri 3 Jul 2015
at 23:55
Re: My Dinner With Andrei
In reply to Cap'n Rae (msg # 259):

Tucker will make his way back to his berth and painfully switch out of the clothes he just had his ass-whooped in and pops a couple of mild-pain relievers to temporarily dull the pain in his arms and the rest of his body.  He will clean up and put on clean clothes (civilian or BDU's depending on Konrad's request) and make his way to the deck to wait for everyone.  He does keep his multi-plier on him and brings two cigars with him to the meeting in the supplied vehicles.




Exiting at the establishment, Robert will enter the establishment and exchange formalities with everyone before sitting and having the meeting begin.  He will stand and raise his beer in the salute from the general about the war being over soon.  He will eat and drink his fill during the meeting and will only ask a single question of the general, so far.  "Robert Tucker sir.  First off General, thank you for your hospitality.  Second, you intend to turn yourself in for which will probably be a death sentence without fighting back?

I can certainly respect your integrity for the people under you command and for the people you are protecting here.  If I may?  You turn yourself in and this other guy gets what he wants with you out of the way.  Still leaves your people kind of vulnerable without giving away too much about your command structure?"

This message was last edited by the player at 23:56, Fri 03 July 2015.

Mark Scully
 player, 30 posts
 E7, USN SEALs
 Dave Ross
Sat 4 Jul 2015
at 12:00
Re: My Dinner With Andrei
"You reckon that's the sort of place a General might hang out?" Scully says to Phillips quietly when they see Andrei's cafe. Not wanting to make it obvious that the cafe is the center of his attention he only spends a moment or so looking at it before moving on, wandering from stall to stall, looking around the square as he does so, casting the occasional glance back to the cafe, being careful not to pay it any more attention than any of the other establishments that are still open for business.

When he hears the voice call out to both of them in English the SEAL looks at the Green Beret for a moment, his eyebrows rising, a gesture intended to convey the question why not? After all, if it would be pretty fucking dumb to come to the market and not engage with the traders. That was why they were here. Besides, in addition to what he was peddling the dude might have information that could be useful.

Getting a nod of agreement from the Green Beret, the Navy SEAL approaches the stall with his countryman, his manner relaxed, casual. He's worked with the British a number of times, both before the War and during it, usually the Royal Marines of the Special Boat Service. The trader's accent reminded him of an SBS Sergeant he had known named Barnes, a Londoner who had joked with Scully several times about taking the SEAL for a curry in London's Brick Lane after the War. It had been all talk of course, for both men knew how hard the British Capital had been hit during the 1997 nuclear exchanges, and in any event Barnesy had fallen on the Baltic Coast at the start of 2000, a Russian sniper's bullet lodged in his brain, so the two of them would never share that curry.

"Hey Greg. I'm Mark, this is Eric." There was no point in screwing around with fake names, but there's no surname offered, nor does he offer a handshake, his hands remaining thrust deep in to the pockets of his Polish Army parka as he nods to the man he presumes to be an Englishman, his gray eyes looking at the trader, taking him in, assessing him, forming first impressions, as he imagined the other man would be doing of him. The American grins, attempts to convey a friendly and open manner as he looks over the array of goods on display. He's not whispering, but he's keeping his voice low, to try and not draw attention to the fact that he is speaking English.

"Is that obvious that we're American?" After all, Greg had addressed them in their own language, so the trader may have made them as English speakers. It's said with a smile, for it's intended as a joke. "How about you?  You British? How'd you wind up here? We were told it was best to keep a low profile if you're Western. Do you get any trouble from the Russians or the Poles? And hey, do you mind if I have a look at that?" The last is added as the SEAL pulls his hand out of his pocket, picks up a lighter from the table, as though to study it, as a prospective buyer would do with something that has caught his eye and that me may wish to purchase.

Whether Greg minds or not is probably something of a moot point, for Scully is picking up the lighter as he utters the words, holds it up between thumb and forefinger, shifting round slightly as he does so, so that instead of facing the trader he stands side on to him, the movement giving him a slightly wider view of the square, and as he pretends to examine the lighter he sees a group of Soviets arrive at Andrei's cafe. Game on? Maybe.

His eyes turn back towards Greg as he places the lighter back down on the merchant's table, grins. "Whatever I need Greg? You best be careful there buddy. I might have a long shopping list. And Eric's might be even longer." He looks over to his countryman. "Let's keep it short for now though. I need 12 gauge shotgun ammo. You figure you could lay your hands on some of that for me at a good price and we can maybe do some business? How about you Eric, anything you need you want to trade our spare shit for?" Scully pats the pack slung over his shoulder. He knows Phillips is light on gear and trade goods, so the use of 'our' is intended to let the soldier know that anything he wants he can barter for with the Navy's gear.  He then turns back to Greg. "And hey, what's the story with those pink slips that some people are passing? Are they what passes for cash in these parts?"

He looks round when he mentions the pink slips, as though looking out over the market. He's not looking for the ORMO dude that had been not so subtly tailing them, reckoning that Phillips will have that one covered, so instead Scully just looks around with an air of feigned indifference. He does see that two armed sentries that have taken up position outside the cafe though, so turns back to Greg. "I thought the Russians were supposed to go unarmed like everyone else. Anything special happening over there that you know about?" His demeanour is that of a mildly curious observer who has just spotted something a little out of the ordinary.
Cap'n Rae
 GM, 3032 posts
 Tour Director
 Narrator
Sat 4 Jul 2015
at 17:08
Re: My Dinner With Andrei
Griet Niewiadomska:
"I can sympathise with your concern for your men," she said, "my own concerns centre around my boat and my crew. I would appreciate time to be alone to discuss this, but we can step outside if you wish. Your guards can watch us and you can remain inside. Whichever way you would like to do this I need to know what timescale we have. Our boat needs to be repaired which means time to locate a part or the means to fabricate one and then time to make the repair. That will take from two to three days from the time we have the materials. If that is a difficulty, we are not any help to you I'm afraid. If that is acceptable to you, we can discuss our answer once we know whether you would prefer to wait inside or out."


A look of concern passes over the general's face. Zolnerowich looks to be somewhere in his mid-to-tale forties, with close-cropped grey hair, a leathery complexion, and a jagged scar runs from the left corner of his mouth down past his chin (his left ear lobe is also missing). He doesn't have much of a poker face.

"We will do whatever we can to help you fix your boat. Just tell us what you need. I'll send my best mechanics and engineers to assist in the repairs. I can't delay much longer, but we can probably buy another day or two. My staff is in communications with Chilikov. They will inform him of my 'arrest' today. The weather is bad, the roads are shit, and there are partisans about, so we have excuses to postpone our departure. If we wait too long, though, Chilikov may suspect a ruse. I don't want him to get impatient and send his Spetznaz down here to fetch me."

"You can discuss my proposal outside if you prefer. Just don't wander off."
he adds with a chuckle and a wink.

Robert 'Tuck' Tucker:
"Robert Tucker sir.  First off General, thank you for your hospitality.  Second, you intend to turn yourself in for which will probably be a death sentence without fighting back?

I can certainly respect your integrity for the people under you command and for the people you are protecting here.  If I may?  You turn yourself in and this other guy gets what he wants with you out of the way.  Still leaves your people kind of vulnerable without giving away too much about your command structure?"


Zolnerowich exchanges a brief, knowing look with his staff. When he answers, he's speaking more slowly than before, his response cautious and measured.

"That's a very valid concern, comrade Tucker, one that I've devoted much thought to. I'm not overly optimistic about my chances, but I hope that I can convince Chilikov to change his mind. At the very least, I can buy some more time for my staff to come up with a contingency plan. It's not much, but it's the best I can do. If it is to be my death sentence, then so be it; I must do something."

General Zolnerowich fixes a penetrating gaze on Tucker, "That is, unless, you have a better idea."

-

This message was last edited by the GM at 17:12, Sat 04 July 2015.

Jelena Tamm
 player, 26 posts
 Red Army Deserter
 Silent Hunter
Sat 4 Jul 2015
at 17:52
Re: My Dinner With Andrei
Griet Niewiadomska:
Before they headed off for the meeting, Griet gave the new Russian a searching look, "Thank you for helping my crew. If you wish to have a berth with us I'll need to know something of your background: what skills you have will be particularly useful. Would you mind telling me now or wait until I have conducted the meeting?"


"I am a radio/telephone operator", Jelena said in at times halting English, "Before the war, I worked on telephone network in Tallinn and also had to be mechanic to repair vehicles. Let it be clear that I am not Russian. I am Estonian and I really would like to go home. I am deserting from the Red Army and hope your boat will get me some of the way home. I am of course at your service.

She paused and retucked her hair behind her ear. She was sounding quite nervous and bit her lip a little. From the look of her blonde hair it appeared to have been bleached pretty recently - and not by a professional.

"Understand please that I do not want to go to meeting. It would not be good for me if I was spotted".
Griet Niewiadomska
 player, 871 posts
 CPO, Polish Navy
 mark101
Sat 4 Jul 2015
at 18:09
Re: My Dinner With Andrei
"If you can spare us that help, we will be as ready as soon as possible should we decide to accept your offer," Griet replied.

"Now if you will excuse us, we'll leave you here and make our decision, we won't be long."

Griet led the negotiation party out and once in the square she said, "OK, what do people think?"



"Hm," she said to Jelena,"an RTO isn't a skillset we can particularly use but extra hands and eyes are always welcome. We'll get you closer to home. Mariusz will give you the tour and stay with you whilst we're ashore. You'll be bunking with Mihn in the forward port cabin."
Cap'n Rae
 GM, 3033 posts
 Tour Director
 Narrator
Sat 4 Jul 2015
at 18:12
Re: My Dinner With Andrei
Mark Scully:
"Hey Greg. I'm Mark, this is Eric." There was no point in screwing around with fake names, but there's no surname offered, nor does he offer a handshake, his hands remaining thrust deep in to the pockets of his Polish Army parka as he nods to the man he presumes to be an Englishman, his gray eyes looking at the trader, taking him in, assessing him, forming first impressions, as he imagined the other man would be doing of him. The American grins, attempts to convey a friendly and open manner as he looks over the array of goods on display. He's not whispering, but he's keeping his voice low, to try and not draw attention to the fact that he is speaking English.

"Is that obvious that we're American?" After all, Greg had addressed them in their own language, so the trader may have made them as English speakers. It's said with a smile, for it's intended as a joke. "How about you?  You British? How'd you wind up here? We were told it was best to keep a low profile if you're Western. Do you get any trouble from the Russians or the Poles? And hey, do you mind if I have a look at that?" The last is added as the SEAL pulls his hand out of his pocket, picks up a lighter from the table, as though to study it, as a prospective buyer would do with something that has caught his eye and that me may wish to purchase.


"Shit, I thought I was asking a lot of questions. I seen enough to tell you was American. No one dresses like that 'round 'ere 'cept deserters. Takes one to know one, right? But Polish deserters know how to get their hands on civilian rags, so there you go. Yeah, I'm English as the Queen's arse. London, I'm sure you've heard of it- East End. Tiny fuckin' Bubbles. War chewed me up and when it spat me out, I landed here. Take a Butcher's." he adds, in reference to the lighter already in Scully's hand.

Mark Scully:
His eyes turn back towards Greg as he places the lighter back down on the merchant's table, grins. "Whatever I need Greg? You best be careful there buddy. I might have a long shopping list. And Eric's might be even longer." He looks over to his countryman. "Let's keep it short for now though. I need 12 gauge shotgun ammo. You figure you could lay your hands on some of that for me at a good price and we can maybe do some business? How about you Eric, anything you need you want to trade our spare shit for?" Scully pats the pack slung over his shoulder. He knows Phillips is light on gear and trade goods, so the use of 'our' is intended to let the soldier know that anything he wants he can barter for with the Navy's gear.  He then turns back to Greg. "And hey, what's the story with those pink slips that some people are passing? Are they what passes for cash in these parts?"


"12-gauge shotty shells. I can get those for ya, no problem. Make me an offer and don't be cheap. I gots me Trouble and a sweet little thing on the side to support. I prefer trade, but if you can get yer hands on some of that Red Army scrip- that pink paper- I'll take that too."

Mark Scully:
He looks round when he mentions the pink slips, as though looking out over the market. He's not looking for the ORMO dude that had been not so subtly tailing them, reckoning that Phillips will have that one covered, so instead Scully just looks around with an air of feigned indifference. He does see that two armed sentries that have taken up position outside the cafe though, so turns back to Greg. "I thought the Russians were supposed to go unarmed like everyone else. Anything special happening over there that you know about?" His demeanour is that of a mildly curious observer who has just spotted something a little out of the ordinary.


"Must be a V.I.P. Could be the gaffer, even, stoppin' in for a Ruby. I don't keep his calendar, though."


-

This message was last edited by the GM at 03:52, Mon 06 July 2015.

Mariusz Tokarski
 player, 1224 posts
 Teenaged Partisan
 mark 101
Sat 4 Jul 2015
at 18:13
Re: My Dinner With Andrei
"Sure thing, Captain," Mariusz said, "do you need help to carry your gear or can you manage?"

Once he'd established if Jelena needed anything carrying, he led her to the cabin and showed her the spare bunk and lockers, "It's not much but it is warm and dry. A lot better than I've been used to."

He showed her the heads and then took her to see the laundry and shower room, "I'm going to get the dinner on the go so you can spend time in here if you want. I'll be coming down in forty minutes to do the laundry so until then you'll have the run of the place if you want."
Robert 'Tuck' Tucker
 player, 1669 posts
 P Sgt., 10th MD
 Corkman
Sat 4 Jul 2015
at 19:58
Re: My Dinner With Andrei
Cap'n Rae:
Zolnerowich exchanges a brief, knowing look with his staff. When he answers, he's speaking more slowly than before, his response cautious and measured.

"That's a very valid concern, comrade Tucker, one that I've devoted much thought to. I'm not overly optimistic about my chances, but I hope that I can convince Chilikov to change his mind. At the very least, I can buy some more time for my staff to come up with a contingency plan. It's not much, but it's the best I can do. If it is to be my death sentence, then so be it; I must do something."

General Zolnerowich fixes a penetrating gaze on Tucker, "That is, unless, you have a better idea."

-

Tucker sits up in his chair and looks towards Konrad before continuing, almost asking him for permission to speak his mind.
Eric Phillips
 player, 24 posts
 18 Bravo, 10th SFG
 Spartan-117
Sat 4 Jul 2015
at 20:15
Re: My Dinner With Andrei
Mark Scully:
He looks over to his countryman. "Let's keep it short for now though. I need 12 gauge shotgun ammo. You figure you could lay your hands on some of that for me at a good price and we can maybe do some business? How about you Eric, anything you need you want to trade our spare shit for?" Scully pats the pack slung over his shoulder. He knows Phillips is light on gear and trade goods, so the use of 'our' is intended to let the soldier know that anything he wants he can barter for with the Navy's gear.


"Thanks man, but I'm good.  This whole apocalypse deal works out well with the ascetic thing I'm trying these days," Phillips said as he kept an eye on the cafe.

This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 20:15, Sat 04 July 2015.

Minh Quyen
 player, 719 posts
 SP4, U.S. Army MP
 JinnySong2
Sun 5 Jul 2015
at 03:41
Re: My Dinner With Andrei
Jelena Tamm:
"Understand please that I do not want to go to meeting. It would not be good for me if I was spotted".


Griet Niewiadomska:
"Mariusz will give you the tour and stay with you whilst we're ashore. You'll be bunking with Mihn in the forward port cabin."


"Me and Mari can look after her." Quyen interrupts quietly from the sidelines. She was dressed down with her sidearm stuffed into the front of her trousers and jacket open. An unlit cigarette was gently wedged between two fingers. She then shifted he eyes towards the other woman and nods "Roommate."

Before Greit and Bayer depart she gets the attention of both of them and asks "Any instructions while you are gone?"
Craig Sutherland
 player, 724 posts
 Lt., 42 Cdo, RMC
 Cymon
Sun 5 Jul 2015
at 04:08
Re: My Dinner With Andrei

Craig take the photo of the nuclear device fore a closer look. He has never seen one in the flesh, but the various lecture he had sat through had mentioned them. He had even heard of them in the field from various people, always thought it was a myth. "Looks like a legitimate device if he has the codes and keys he has a nuclear option. Also depends if the battery is still viable as they have to be connected to an electrical grid to stay functional over the long term."

He places the picture back on the table and folds his arms.
Konrad Bayer
 player, 1933 posts
 Hauptman, Pzg
 the fusilier
Sun 5 Jul 2015
at 04:27
Re: My Dinner With Andrei
Robert 'Tuck' Tucker:
Tucker sits up in his chair and looks towards Konrad before continuing, almost asking him for permission to speak his mind.


Bayer catches Robert's eyes and nods, subtly waving a hand for him to continue. He then leans in towards Griet beside him and says quietly to her while Tucker is speaking, "Wouldn't be the first time."

Then, when there is an opportunity, Bayer asks the General, "Are you familiar with General Anton Koronev, sir?"
Cap'n Rae
 GM, 3034 posts
 Tour Director
 Narrator
Sun 5 Jul 2015
at 06:41
Re: My Dinner With Andrei
Konrad Bayer:
Then, when there is an opportunity, Bayer asks the General, "Are you familiar with General Anton Koronev, sir?"


Zolnerowich's eyes widen and he slowly breaks into a wide grin. "Ah, the infamous General Anton Koronev- traitor to the motherland." he chuckles to himself. He grows instantly serious, his eyes narrowing to slits, the smile fades. "Surely, you're not suggesting that I pull a Koronev? If Chilikov is willing to nuke the 43rd because I refuse to send him more battalions, declaring for NATO would just give him another reason- a better one, perhaps- to do so. Unless I'm missing something?"

-