Let´s prep the ambulance but don´t start it yet, we don´t want any unnecessary attention. I´ll watch the front Scratching his left cheek john checks His FN-FAL and then turn his gaze towards the checkpoint.


OOC: How fast are we ready to leave? What needs to be done? Steven, Luke  I´ll guess its your job with the ambulance?

"Hmm maybe you're right. But i don't want any big surprises, so one of you please keep an eye on what's going on there while the rest is packing" Saying this she returns to tend to her patient, her supplies are mostly packed and the others know where that stuff goes in the ambulance.

Luke nods at John, and heads back into the 'shop'.

His first stop is to check the Bison, in case the rugged machine has suffered an apparent mischief in the bare few hours since he was last near it. A test-start of the engine to check the dials and engine sounds, and Luke moves off to prepare their supplies and kit for movement.

After years on the move, they have it down pretty well pat. Still, complaceny could lead to some important piece being left behind, so he checks to make sure that everything is stored in it's proper place, in case they do have to pack and move in a hurry.

"Somebody hand me the shotgun, and I'll watch the door. Do we have a sign in polish that says Quarentined?"

Steven looks from behind the blind, down the street, waiting for the shotgun.

from the doorway it doesn't appear the disturance is anything to be immediately worried about. Men and women only recently passed through the nearby checkpoint hurry past with push carts loaded down with produce from garden plots.
Straining to understand the snatches of conversation several words appear to be repeated, the third almost in wonderment.
"Amerykanie," "Zamożny" and "Diesel"

Steven opens the door slightly. "Guys, I am a bit weak in the language department, but from what I gather, its something about Americans and diesel. Not really sure what else they are talkong about, but it doesn't seem to be a threat."

Steven closes the door, hoping someone still brings him the shotgun. He felt kind of naked outside unarmed.

Figuring everyone is too busy inside to get him the weapon, Steven heads back inside. Walking into the garage, he opens the closet where he has his personal gear stored, pulling a towel off his SAW. Checking the ammunition, he pulls back the bolt, loading the weapon, and flicks off the safety.

"Guys, anyone else around?"

"Yes sure but ... i can't leave my patient at the moment especially while there seems nothing serious to be going on out there" Elena says while taking a quick peak at her grease gun just to assure herself it's there in case she needs it.


OOC: The gun is stored in the half opened top drawer of her desk which is about 3m away from her.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:42, Tue 04 Dec 2007.

"I'll be out front, see if I can gather any more intel." Steven smiles at Elena. "Good job by the way.Is Luke gettting the ambulance ready?"

Outside, the everpresent crowd didn't appear to take any notice of Steven or his weapon. Not supprising really in a city garrisoned by thousands of soldiers and crawling with foriegn nationals from what seems almost every part of the world.

Krakow had the same feel as Cassablanca more than half a century before, or so some of the old timers had said. A city free from war and yet not. Agents from all sides carried on their own underground conflict in back alleys and hotel rooms. Assassinations were common, if you saw the many "accidental gunshot deaths" for what they really were.

A thriving black market supported the overstretched city governments efforts to provide for nearly eighty thousand poeple. Some might say the black market was the local government. Corruption was rife, at least while the ORMO's backs were turned.

But it was still a far better place than anywhere else in Europe of late. Spared the nukes, it had only suffered from looting and the occasional fire. Even conventional attack had seemed to pass it by in spite of it playing host to the Polish 8th MRD for most of the war. Perhaps it was because most of the heavy industrial facilites were located outside the city? They had not fared so lucky - Nowy Huta, the industrial powerhouse of southern Poland and just a dozen or so miles to the east had attracted at least one warhead while further north tactical nukes had been used almost with abandon.

Peering westward from his vantage point, Steven spied the oncoming shape of a BTR-80. Probably one of the ORMO's vehicles except for the fact that they don't have any still working....

"We have armor in the street people. Not local from the look of it. Keep frosty till I can find out more, but be ready to move."

Steven adjusted his stance, making his body language less hostile and more non chalant. The last thing he wanted was the BTR shooting up the hospital because he looked too threatening.

The BTR rolls to a halt with a jerk. Atop the rear deck, a man wearing worn Russian fatigues but confidently holding an imaculate German PSG-1 sniper rifle keeps watch over the surrounding area. A womans face can be seen with her head through the commanders hatch, black hair neatly ttied back. Naval dress blues adorn the womans shoulders and upper arms.
The vehicle itself has seen heavy combat and many repairs. Holes from a light autocannon of some type pock it's flank rendering it no longer water tight. These holes extent to the lower turret, recent repairs obviously necessary to restore it's traverse.
Very few stores fill it's external bins. Only a large canvas package and a few jerry cans any indication that the owners of the vehicle aren't completely destitute.

Sitting on top of the BTR, the man cooly surveyed the sergeant before him. As soon as the Steven looked directly at him, he pulled back the sleeve on his left arm to reveal the intricate Marine Corps insignia tattooed there. In a very low voice he said, "Sempre Fi..."

"Do or die." Steven chimes back. "Army here, Armor. Your ride seems a bit beat up. Want me to look it over? We're a hospital here, but my background is in vehicle repair.Anyone injured? Come inside, we have a medical staff, and some food."

Steven was a bit weary, but no KGB would have endured the mark of the corps just to rob a hospital.

The side hatch of the vehicle swings open and a Polish boot steps out....

"Son of a bitch." Steven mutters as the hatch opens, Tapping his heel against the door three times, Steven sends the warning into the others inside. Big trouble, be ready to roll.

"That hinge seems a bit displaced." he mutters walking over to it and blocking the rest of the man attached to the boot from entering the hospital.

Before Steven can get more than a few metres, the remaining parts of the perosn inthe Polish boots steps down. A Polish soldier wearing a clean uniform and with an AK-74 slung over his shoulder dusts himself down with one hand - the other is bandaged and held firmly against his chest with a white linen sling.
A moment later he is followed by a hansome man wearing a rather worn (but clean) three peice suit. Everything about him screams "diplomat", right down to the neatly knotted tie around his neck. The only concession to the war is the small Polish PM-63 SMG holstered underneath his jacket and the bandage wrapped about his head almost like a turban.

"Dziękują bardzo. Dbają o siebie i chłopca.", he speaks back into the BTR before turning his attention fully to the rapidly approaching Steven.

"Thank you, sir." His Scottish accent clear for all to hear.
</blue>"We might take you up on the offer, I don't think we are too damaged here, my head is a lot better than a couple of days ago. But this old lassie"</Blue>, smacking the side of the 'car' "... might need a fixup."

"We'd better get some papers at the Rada," he continues, speaking once more to the occupants of the vehicle, "So we can come back here afterwards."

"Or what do you others think?"
"Its ok with you, Mary?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:01, Fri 04 Jan 2008.

"Sir", the apparent US Marine speaks up, "I'd advise having a constant guard on the BTR, at least until we are better aware of the situation here. You could go under guard with some merchandise to get the first lot of papers and on your return, you could pick up the second lot to go. This jallopy represents all our worldly goods and I'd be reluctant to leave it hanging en prise so to speak."

Sound advice for anyone living in Krakow. The man seemed to have a firm grip on the general situation in the city. Your group found the hard way on the first day in town that anything not nailed down, booby trapped and guarded tended to walk away as soon as nobody was looking.

"Thank you Sergeant," "Mary", the women in navy dress blues spoke up with a strong Irish accent.
"You might remember next time to keep information like that to ourselves though." So, they were apparently as poor as they looked at first glance...

"I'm sure that's a good idea Don," she replied to the suited Scotsman.

"How far is it from here to the Rada?" she inquired of Steven, her attractive dark eyes looking down upon him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:14, Fri 04 Jan 2008.

"3 Klicks south of here lady. Though I doubt you'll get a warm reception. The Rada isn't too hip on armored vehicles in town without his permission"

Steven looked at the injured men.  "Can't look at you now. They have VIP's inside"
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:40, Sat 05 Jan 2008.

"Mary" looked back down through the hatch she was standing in, apparently listing to somebody inside speak for a few moments.
"Solider, do you know of anywhere we could set ourselves up at for a while." she asked Steven.
"All we need is shelter for a few days, nothing fancy."


Accomodations are basically of two types - Occupied and Abandoned.
An occupied building contains human inhabitants, who may be willing to give shelter in return for payment (which it appears this group does not have). Two or three dollars in barter will usually buy a nights sleeping space ina leaky, unheated flophouse. A deluxe room with a bed (and clean linen), stove, and wash basin might cost $40 per day. Not all occupied buildings will take lodgers of course.
Abandoned buildings can be used simply by moving into them (this is what your group did). There is no shortage of abandoned buildings especially since the city is only at approximately 10% of it's prewar population, however, many are in poor repair, both cosmetically and structually. Also, as usual, all the best locations are claimed.

The Scotsman looks out on the soldier.

"Aye, laddie! Answer the lady!"

Hearing Steven's warning Elena places the newborn onto the mothers abdomen, holding her index finger in front of her lips to tell her to be silent. She then moves towards her smg, cocking the handle while grabbing it and sneaks towards a window kneeling before it and drawing the curtain a bit to see what's going on out there and be ready to give fire support if needed.

Stalling, Steven acts like he just snapped out of a trance. "Sorry, I just wanted to see if two of every animal was hiding in there as well. I don't suppose thats going to happen."

Pointing down the road, Steven continues to stall. "This is really a self serve town. What you see is what you get. The four star joints are pretty much leveled, but you can find a few flats to rent for the night, if you approach the locals unarmed. Some places that are deserted can be used for a few days, so long as you move along when the local constable shows up. Or toss him some stuff he needs."

Easing back, Steven figures he has bought them enough time. "Anything else you need?"

"Are there any areas we should avoid?" said the man with the sniper rifle perched on top of the BTR.
"You know, I bet there are gangs around here, do you know any of the local turfs." He was obviously trying to be as congenial as he could.
"I hope you're a good listener bud, cause I've got a tonne of questions. Now, back in the day, when we visited a far out Alphabetville, we'd hire a guide, would that make sense here? If so, where'd we get one? Also, these papers everyone talks about, I'm assuming we'll have to give graft to obtain them, what's the going rate? I don't mind getting gouged a bit by the locals, you expect that, but we ain't got a lot to spare so everything we can save is good for us, if we save enough, we might even be able to afford a make over for this baby," he slapped the side of the BTR.

"There's no MAACO around here, so if you want repairs its either from a local, or on your own. I can look her over, I'm a mechanic by trade. Gangs, sure they are about, but the locals pay for protection around here, so the violence is low. As for the rest of your questions, why don't two of you come inside, and we can chat in private. Your drawing alot of unwanted attention to my friends hospital here."