As soon as she crosses the threshold, Cao is assaulted by the smell of the bandit flop-house. One can almost taste the funk.

The young woman in the pink room patiently waits to be unshackled from the bed. When asked, she says her name is, Brienne. Chevelle leaves the room to look for a key, or failing that, to retrieve a pair of bolt cutters from Razorback.

Saul and Carswell visually inspect the disturbed earth in the back yard. It very much looks like an improvised grave site, but there's only one way to find out for sure. A shovel lies on the ground nearby.

...

-

Abbie finishes sweeping the house. "All clear!" he shouts to the others inside, lowering his M4 to his side just as Captain Cao joins the entry team.

"Excuse me, ma'am, just finishin' up here. Everything looks well and good inside, apart from... well, apart from the young woman we just found in the other room. Watkins and the young Miss Noble are inside with her now. The bastards had her chained up..." Clark lets the words hang as he breathes out expressively, clearly distressed by what the bandits had been up to. Almost as if in response to the negative thoughts, he shakes out his shoulders, giving the appearance of a dog shaking water out of its fur.

"If it's all the same to you, ma'am, I'd love to get put to better use outside. I don't like being in doors too much - 'specially not these ones," Abbie gestures around the bandit lodgings. "Maybe I can help track those assholes down? I did quite a bit of bow huntin' in my younger days - I can smell a buck from a mile out, as they say."

"I will fucking kill a motherfucker slowly," Xandra breathes.  Louder, but still softly: "Chevelle."  Her tone halts the younger woman.  "In Razorback, my pack is the gray and black one.  I've got bolt cutters and a crowbar in it."

She leans her carbine against the wall next to the door and drops to a knee beside the bed, heedless of the stench (or any instructions Cao may have to the contrary, or much other outside stimulus).  "Hey, Brienne," she says conversationally, giving the bedframe a quick once-over.  "My name's Xandra.  We're gonna get you out of here.  Before I go to work, is there anything here I need to know about?  Razor blades, wires, shit that's gonna go boom?"  She doubts the deserters were sophisticated enough to deter escape with any technical measures but it only took one example to the contrary to make her paranoid for life.

She withdraws a slim leather case from her left cargo pocket and unzips it to reveal an assortment of small, slim metal tools.  "Smith and Wesson chain cuffs.  There's probably eighty million sets of these sold to cops all over the place."  Or kinksters, she doesn't add, given the circumstances.  "If I remember how to do this, I should have you out before Chevelle gets back with the bolt cutters."  She looks up and makes eye contact with Brienne as she holds up a spring-steel shim.  "And then I'll teach you how to do it."

Unseen, Scott nods.  He wants to avoid a friendly fire incident but he hates giving up on a pursuit, and Cao's plan is pretty much the opposite of giving up.  "Sexton's clear on that.  We'll start heading your way."  He releases the PTT switch and starts the process of diplomatically herding the mixed militia squad back to the house.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:47, Sat 25 Jan 2020.

Carswell shoulders his carbine as he walks around the edge of the very likely grave site, taking care not to actually step on it. Once he’s completed a full circle he takes his Oakleys off and secures them to his LBE vest before looking over to Saul and then nodding towards the shovel. ”Shall I?”

He’s not particularly worried about disturbing a possible crime scene and contaminating evidence - they’re several years and at least one Martial Law proclamation beyond that being a concern - but it’s still a desecration of sorts. But if it is what they think it is it’s going to have to be done. And with all due respect to Saul if they’re going to have to move some earth Carswell is the younger man. And doesn’t have a bag leg.

Lauren’s expression visibly darkens for a moment when she hears about the woman being held captive. There’s already enough people dealing with that though and they all know what they’re doing, don’t need her to micromanage them, so she just looks over to Murray before the other woman leaves the room. ”Xandra, keep me in the loop.” She pauses, adds. ”Face to face. No need to use a radio.” That way they’d be able to afford the victim a modicum of privacy.

The general mood is clear and it’s one that she shares. These bastards aren’t getting away. They will be hunted down, brought to justice for their crimes, every last one of them. And Lauren’s in no doubt as to what form that justice should take. Hopefully Scott will be on the same page.

Taking her ballistic sunglasses off, the Air Force Captain turns her attention to the second part of Clark’s update, ponders for a moment. The possibility of a blue on blue remains a serious concern. But she can understand his wish to get out, do something. She’d like to do the same herself but she knows that realistically she can’t. She’s got a job to do here, one that doesn’t involve creeping around in the boonies. And besides, she’s a California girl. Her own younger days were spent in the San Francisco Bay area.  Bow hunting was definitely not a feature of that.

”I don’t want anyone going in to the woods on foot from this side right now. It’s too risky.” She says after a moment. Her concern is that if they do that there’s a danger that the bikers or local militia might mistake them for bandits. ”But we need to find out what happened to -“ she momentarily pauses. What was his name again? ”- Campbell. The last time you saw him was with the rest of you. yes? Head back there, see if you can track him down. At this stage we don’t know whether he’s hostile or not so take someone with you. And if you want to go north of the house check in with me first.”

"Nah," Saul says to Mike's question.  The word comes slowly and thickly. "Either it's a grave or it's not."  And we know it's a grave.  "We'll have time to sort that out when the bullets stop.  No sense spending time and energy digging up some folks that will still be dead tomorrow."  People are terrible.

Saul leads Mike inside the house and is immediately assaulted with the smell of scumbag.  "Why is it that when folks start making bad choices they decide that tossing basic hygiene out the window should be one of them?" he muses quietly.  The lack of general amusement to the observation tells the former cop that something else is going on.  "What?"

When he gets filled in on Brienne, he isn't exactly shocked.  The incident just confirms where his mind has already been headed.  "Okay, so once we've got Brienne settled as much as we can, we need to figure out if she knows anything about the possible grave site out back.  That being a touchy subject, we need her to identify or at least describe this Reeves piece of work we're after.  Maybe we got lucky and one of these bodies around here is him."

Saul turns to look at the room and then back to Cao.  "Ma'am, I'll handle this end, start consolidating the legal stuff, make an effort to ID Reeves, and start a hunt for the drone.  You go handle your part."

Carswell nods, drops the shovel and follows Saul into the house, where he’s brought up to speed at the same time as the former lawman. It sounds like there’s already enough people trying to help Brienne and they’re probably the ones best suited to do so, so the paramedic just takes up a position against the wall, his arms folded as he listens to the ongoing conversation.

It takes her a little longer than she would have liked, but Murray gets Brienne uncuffed before Watkins returns with the bolt-cutters. As assured by the young woman, nothing goes BOOM as the cuffs are removed.

"Thanks," the girl mutters. She looks to be in her late teens, early twenties, although it's hard to tell under the grime of captivity.

"That would be the Joneses'; this was their place," she answers, strangely matter-of-fact, when asked about the suspected grave site out back. "Can I get some water?" she asks, her voice cracking a bit, but due to dryness, not emotion.

The rumble of motorcycle engines rattles the window panes. Red's CVMC squad is back on the road. The sound diminishes as the bikers ride west.

Guillory arrives with the Jerome militia. The veteran lawman enters the house, is assailed by the funk of debauched bachelorhood, undercut by the bitter tang of burning tires wafting in from outside. The militia polices up the weapons of the dead. One of the militiamen pokes his head in through the front door, announces, "Y'all got Reeves!"

Five M4 carbines of various iterations are recovered from the battlefield, including the one in pieces on the kitchen table, plus a Smith & Wesson .38 revolver and a Glock 17. The bandit's M60 is more or less slag, burned up in the bed of their pickup truck. The flames are starting to die down, only the vehicle's less flammable components still burning away stubbornly.


Your Turn.

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This message was last edited by the GM at 20:11, Sun 26 Jan 2020.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am. I'll get right on tryin' to hunt down Campbell. He didn't seem the type to just wander off without purpose, so by my thinkin' he either tried to play hero or he decided to go AWOL on us. Either way, we'll do our best."

Abbie shuffles his feet, deep in thought for a moment before turning to the others in the main room of the house. "Nash, c'mon man let's go find our lost little rabbit." If Nash agrees to come with, the two of them will walk down the driveway (avoiding any lingering fire and smoke) toward the treeline where the Alabaman was last seen.

Upon arrival, Abbie will begin cutting for sign, looking for even the slightest disturbances of the natural order - footprints would be the most obvious, but broken twigs, fallen leaves, and broken spiderwebs also are good indicators of recent movement.

”You’ve got it.” Lauren replies to Saul when the former Marine offers to take the lead when it comes to questioning - interrogating? - the rescued girl, Brienne, and dealing with some of the other admin related matters. The Air Force officer has no objections. As he said, she’s got other things that require her attention.

Still. at least she can cross running down the bandit leader from that list. Justice has caught up with him, if not all of his men. Campbell can also be crossed off the list, for the moment at least, with Clark taking Nash to try and track down their erstwhile comrade. The missing man might reappear as an item on the mental PowerPoint that she can see in her mind’s eye if and when he’s been tracked down but that’s a problem for later not now.

Her main concern now is the deserters that are still in the wind. Based on available intel and a quick count of confirmed kills there’s at least four of them on the run, maybe more. And they’ve got a head start, although hopefully the bikers are doing something to try and address that.

”Are you OK to take some of the Jerome people with you and go back up the bikers?” she asks Scott when he’s on scene. ”I can do that instead if you want to work the scene with Saul but you’ve already got the relationship with them. Your call.” By her own standards she’s being relatively cautious in not already jumping into the JLTV and telling Skillins to head off in pursuit. And truth be told she’s actually itching to do just that. But he has already been working with them, knows them. Or at least knows them better than she does. ”I don’t want to put the other drone up. We only have left now and they know we have aerial support so might be watching for another one overflying them.” As much as she wants to bring the remaining deserters to justice, it’s not worth risking losing their only remaining drone.

Something itches at Saul's mind.  Something he can't quite yet put a finger on.  Brienne's reactions don't quite match his experience, but it's hard to say that there's a standard reaction to physical and mental violence.  Different folks, different strokes.  Especially now that the folks in mind have survived the unraveling of society.  Kind of moves your expectations of how the world works to a different point on the spectrum.  Still...

"Hi, I'm Saul," the former cop says, sitting down across the table from Brienne.  He uses an easy, comforting tone.  Plays the father instead of the harsh detective.  Xandra is also at the table, placed near the girl, but not so close that she invades personal space or is in easy reach.  He puts a cup of water down in front of Brienne and another in front of Xandra before taking a notepad out of his breast pocket and putting it on the table next to a pen.  Both get left alone as he smiles reassuringly and leans forward, hands on the table in plain sight.  He doesn't offer to shake.  "You're Brienne, right?  Sorry we had to meet like this.  You're safe here with us.  No one is going to touch you without your permission."

Without staring, Saul watches.  Looks for tics.  Looks for anything that might indicate a lie or a deception.

"You already met my daughter, Carissa, and I gotta say, she's pretty riled up about all of this."  I have a daughter, like you.  See, I'm not a monster.  Just a man across the table who's trying to help. "Can't say as I blame her.  Got you some water there.  Need anything else?  A bit of food or a blanket to cover up?  Just let me know and we'll make it appear."

Saul leans back in the chair, leaves his hands on the table.  "I'm not sure how much you've picked up about who we are, yet, but we're out of Little Rock, sent down by the governor to see what's going on and what we can do to help out.  Especially after the storm.  So we're not just soldiers, we're cops, too.  And we want to make sure the folks that hurt you are taken care of.  Whatever you can tell us will help us do that."

A memory clicks in Saul's mind.  Chevelle in the back of the SUV spotting movement inside the house.  He tries to remember if anyone fired any weapons into the house after the spotting call.  If they didn't, and Chevelle was right, then they either have a runner in here somewhere, or Brienne managed to lock herself to the bed and is more instigator than victim.  Maybe.  What a knot.

"So what I'd like to do is ask you a few questions," Saul says, right hand opening his notebook.  "And if you don't mind, I'll write down your answers, because I'm an old man and my memory isn't what it used to be."  He smiles, gently, one more time, ready to start the game.  "I know you're Brienne, but I don't have the foggiest idea what your last name is. Can you help me out with that?"

Xandra watches Saul work.  She supposes she should be watching Brienne, but she wouldn't really contribute much to the... interview.  Interrogation.  Whatever.  If it's the former, she's here as a chaperone.  If it's the latter, she's... what?  An extra, a stagehand?  She can live with that, she supposes.  And Saul's briefing, delivered quietly out in the yard before they came in to do this, has inserted more than a few slivers of doubt into the righteous certainty of a few minutes ago.

So she watches, and listens, and hopes something will make sense at the end of this.

Scott looks around the detachment that Cao is entrusting him with, does a head count, and carefully doesn't frown.  He hasn't had time to get to know the new guys all that well.  While he's not exactly glad they're going to be elsewhere, he has to acknowledge a certain undercurrent of relief that he won't need to take their measure in the midst of what still has the potential to be a completely fucked-up situation.  On the other hand, that means he has a limited number of Sierras to fill seats in the vehicles, and every empty slot is one he and Cao will have to fill with a militiaman of questionable tactical acumen.

"Okay," he says to the semicircle of armed men and women.  "Here's the deal.  The bikers are in pursuit of the four suspects who got away."  And who smoked the drone, but it'd be bad form to mention that right now.  "We're their backup if they get into anything they can't handle, or if they need another mobile element.  So we're not going to roll in like fuckin' Apocalypse Now.  Be sure of your targets.  Even if we're taking fire, the vehicles will stop a lot of what's out there, so take the time to be sure it's not some guy on our side with poor impulse control and an out-of-date glasses prescription.  If they call us in, Red is the commander on the ground.  We go where he needs us.  We good?"  He looks around, sees mostly nods, figures that's about as good as he's going to get.  "All right.  Load up."

OOC: I am assuming assignments are:

Razorback: Skillins driver, Kabua gunner, 2-3 militia dismounts.

Bourbon Street: Militia driver (in case Mike has to treat someone, we don't have to dick around swapping seats), Scott, Mike, Carissa, 1 militia dismount

The rest of the militia will be left as local security at the house.

Sierra splits up again, Nash and Abbie to go look for Campbell, Guillory, Carissa, Carswell, Skillins, Kabua and a few of the native English speaking Jerome militiamen to back up Red and the CVMC squad (#2); the rest stay behind to secure the former bandit base camp and interview their erstwhile captive.

Bandit Hideout

With Xandra standing by for moral support, Saul begins the interrogation.

"Claire," Brienne answers, giving her surname. "Some food would be good, thanks."

Miss Claire looks at Saul's little notepad uncomfortably, but she doesn't say anything about it. She gives her age as 20, which, now that he's gotten a better look at her, seems about right to Saul. In fact, he guesses that she might actually be a bit older than that. She says she's from Montrose, a little town about 5 miles east of the Jones homestead (the team drove through Montrose on their way to the Jones', but didn't stop to speak with anyone there).

"I met Billy in Hamburg," she says, "He seemed nice, at first..." She pauses to take another sip from Carissa's canteen.

"Are they all... dead?"

The needle on Saul's bullshit meter is inching towards the red. Something about Brienne seems off. On the face of it, her story seems legit, but her responses are weighted carefully, like she's holding back important details. Saul's interviewed lots of trauma victims during his law enforcement career, and there isn't any one particular way that someone who's been held captive and sexually abused should behave, but this young woman's comportment doesn't fit any of the templates.

Saul takes off the kid gloves, doesn't relent when Brienne starts crying. In fact, the tears- pretty noisy, but not very wet- just confirm his suspicions. He goes even harder, and Brienne becomes defensive to the point of hostility.

"What's his fuckin' problem?" she asks, making brief eye contact with Murray. Turning back to Saul, Brienne demands, "How did you not hear of 'Me Too'?"

When Saul confronts her with his suspicion that she was in fact in cahoots with Reeves' gang, she just swears at him again. "You fuckin' stupid or somethin'? You really think I cuffed myself to this gawdamn bed? I'm done with this bullshit. You can go to straight to hell, you don't believe me." It's not a denial.

Tracking Team

Abbie and Nash revisit the hide from which they'd been observing the homestead. The leaf litter is still matted down where they'd been lying watching the farmhouse. An experienced hunter, Abbie is able to pick up a trail exiting the hide site, heading roughly southeast. They begin following the trail, moving slowly so that Abbie doesn't miss any spoor. The pair hits a small clearing, and here the long grass is disturbed in a tell-tale line heading nearly due east. They pick up the pace, entering a grove on the far side of the trail. It's harder to follow the trail here here, between the relatively well-tended rows of trees, but Abbie maintains course, picking up Campbell's trail again in the thick brush bordering a swampy oxbow lake. Their quarry was moving fast by this point, not even trying to cover his backtrail. He seems to have been heading back to where Pony Express is parked.

Razorback & Bourbon Street

Sierra's armored vehicles roll back on to the 82 west. It takes a few tries to raise a response from Red. The radio net finally crackles to life, "Steel Horse, here. We're heading northeast on Ashley road. Gone 'bout half-a-mile. No sign of the fugitives yet. Over."


https://drive.google.com/open?...ZAW3&usp=sharing


Your Turn.

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This message was last edited by the GM at 20:36, Sat 01 Feb 2020.

After the vehicles have departed the scene Lauren turns to Chevelle. ”Watkins, go check out the garage. Out the front door, then left then left again.” The sirections are added in case the Airwoman hadn’t seen the garage. Cao had eyeballed it on the way in but Watkins had entered via a different route. ”If you find any weapons bring them back here. And take someone with you. One of the Militia. I don’t want anyone wandering off by themselves.”

That done, the Vietnamese American Captain takes stock of the situation. Saul has the situation well in hand with the maybe prisoner maybe not prisoner, so there’s nothing she needs to do there. If he comes up with anything doubtless he’ll let her know as quickly as he can. And the house seems secure, her words of caution to Watkins about no one going anywhere alone notwithstanding.

”What do you want us to do?” The speaker is Chinese, a young guy, clad in jeans and a shirt. With Scott having taken most of the ‘local’ - as in not former PLA - Militia with her the thought suddenly occurs to Lauren as she looks at the remaining Militiaman that the us he’s referring to are mostly Chinese. She is now effectively in command of a PLA rifle squad.

There’s a brief pause before she replies, for that throws her off guard for a second or so. ”Get your men to set up a perimeter around the house. Just in case any of the deserters try and come back.” She presumes the speaker will be able to translate for others as needed. ”If you see anyone do not shoot unless you are sure they are enemy though.” She’d have said the same to Americans. There’s a lot of friendlies moving about out there.

Looking at the Chinese man, she then adds. ”Good job out there. Well done.” It’s standard motivational technique, praise a subordinate where appropriate and she feels it’s appropriate, for they’ve taken the house without - so far - suffering any friendly casualties. It still feels weird to be saying it to a Chinese Communist though.

Abbie and Nash are making good speed now, following the obvious spoor left by Campbell through the field - it was so easy even someone without tracking experience would have been able to follow the trail. Something felt very wrong indeed. Campbell by all accounts was fairly experienced at tracking, himself - he'd know he'd be followed if he went AWOL - the fact that his trail was so obvious meant only one of two things. Either he'd doublebacked and Abbie had somehow missed a crosstrack, or Campbell simply didn't care.

"Nash, I think we better call this in. So far as I can tell, Campbell was making straight for Pony Express at speed." Abbie gestures at the trail for Nash to see, "Something's very off here...he's being careless - no brushing out or anything. I think he maybe intends to steal the truck and bug out." Abbie quickens his pace and shifts his gaze up toward the horizon, keeping the track in his peripheral vision, and raises his M4 into a ready position. "We should be careful. Keep your eyes open."

As the situation develops, Saul starts wishing that Brienne was cuffed.  Except that would have tipped his hand before he had started pushing her off balance.  It remains to be seen exactly what she is, but their erstwhile victim is proving that she's far from what they assumed her to be.  From the former cop's perch, he can see Xandra giving off waves of discomfort and he feels guilty for that.  Maybe he'll have to offer her a pour of Car's bourbon.  But for now...

"Metoo was for victims," Saul says calmly, refusing to rise to the bait.  The tone is the same he used on his daughters countless times, one that drove them insane.  The whole "you're not in charge here."  "Not predators," he continues with a negating wave of his left hand, holding his his index finger at a point.  While the left hand pulls her attention, Saul's right drops to his hip below the table, hand on the holster.

He stays on the verbal attack.  "By all accounts Reeves was a backwater hill-rod that gave hillbillies a bad name.  I seriously doubt that he was the brains of this operation.  Right now our folks are closing in on the last few his people.  People who are going to have a story to tell that they will hope keeps them from swinging from a tree."  Assuming the pursuit team doesn't leave them all with a few extra holes.

"My current theory is that Reeves here picked you up somewhere along the line and you found him fairly easy to manipulate.  That puts you, at minimum in collaboration with him and this crew.  That also puts you facing a collection of accessory to murder charges.  You might want to make damn sure that the story you are about to tell me washes with what the last runners come up with.  The man in charge of the pursuit happens to be the legal representative of the governor of Arkansas.  Because you are not stupid, Brienne, you know that makes him judge and jury out here.  So here it is, your last chance to tell me what happened."

It's partly bluff, sure, but Saul wants to gauge the reaction.  Wants to see what words like murder do to the girl.  He's also offering her an out.  One that dovetails into the theory he's offered.  If she takes the line, he'll use that to spin the next line of questions looking for contradictions. If he's wrong, well, that's apology territory.  Figure that one out when it happens.

Xandra tries not to shift uncomfortably.  It's progressively more difficult as the interview goes on.  #metoo was a formative movement for her, and the instinct to support without questioning is a fire within her.  But... she trusts Saul to know his shit, and she's seen him wrestling with Carissa's constant flirtation with danger, and she knows what kind of woman Carissa became with Saul for a father.  So she watches him push Brienne, and she watches the other woman's reactions, and she thinks about faith.

"Brienne," she rasps when Saul pauses.  She leans forward to let her hair shadow her face, draws breath, and waits for the younger woman to make eye contact.  "I have been down this road before, sister, and you are eroding my faith in you.  I got you out of those handcuffs, but if you don't 'fess up to whatever it is you think you can hide, I will weld your ass back into them."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:52, Thu 06 Feb 2020.

Aboard Bourbon Street, Scott tries not to grind his teeth.  They don't have air support, they don't have enough personnel to set a perimeter, and the bad guys have the local terrain knowledge.  He'd gladly stab someone for a decent K-9 unit right now, but there's no dog to be had and the unit's best two-legged tracker seems to have fucked right off.

"Iron Horse, Sexton.  Copy your last.  We're going to check the spur road that runs north off of 82, then we'll catch up and fall in behind you."  he pauses for acknowledgement, then continues.  "Break for Razorback.  Continue past that turn-in and give us room to make the turn, then set up to cover us."

OOC: Intention is for Razorback to take an overwatch position at the junction of US 82 and State Road 911.  Bourbon Street will proceed north up SR 911, check the power line right-of-way and the cluster of what appears to be wellheads, then turn around and come back out.  The SUV is lighter and easier to turn around on a one-lane dirt access road.

"Yes, Ma'am," Chevelle answers. She's glad to get out of the house. The place stinks, and word of Brienne's deception turns the young airman's stomach. She recruits one of the militiamen, a very tan, thirty-something Caucasian woman, and heads towards the detached garage.

-

"Yea, I think that you're right," Nash replied before dropping into a crouch and letting Abbie keep watch while he used his radio.

"Falcon this is Talker," he transmitted. "We've found a clear trail for our missing guy. He's moving fast and doesn't seem to care if anyone is tracking him or not. It looks like he's heading for Pony Express and our fear is that he's deserting. Is anyone with Pony Express at present? Over."

"Talker, copy that. That's an affirmative, we've got people there. Break."

"Garryowen, from Falcon." The leader of the second squad of bikers had said that he had served with the Seventh Cav during the War on Terror, had worn the shoulder patch on his jacket when they'd met for the briefing. "We have one individual possibly heading for your position. It's possible he may be trying to take the vehicle and leave the area. Can you detain him if you see him?" She pauses for a moment. "Lethal force is only authorized in self defense. Over." She's giving Campbell the benefit of the doubt in that regard, but if he has gone rogue he's outnumbered seven to one.

Bourbon Street & Razorback

With the armored green bulk of the J-LTV parked as a sentinel at the intersection, the Sierra Suburban sets off down a dirt access road. As it reaches the power line right-of-way, the Carswell and Carissa look to their right. Carswell spots movement; sharp-eyed Carissa confirms that its Sierra's quarry. At least two of the four bandits are crossing the right of way, breaking into a run as they notice the arrival of the police SUV. The distance between the two parties is nearly 1000m.

The Farmhouse

With a perimeter set by the Jerome militia, Saul and Xandra continue to work on Brienne. It takes a while to break through her surly recalcitrance and mock indignation, but they finally break her down enough to learn the following (to what degree her account is accurate, is another matter):

She was dating one of Reeves' crew, not Reeves himself. Initially, she helped them by luring men to the hideout where they were robbed. Sometimes, she brought other girls for Reeves' crew to "party with". When she found out that Reeves' had killed some of the marks, Brienne claims she refused to continue fishing for him. It was then that Reeves' started beating her, and cuffing her to the bed at night and/or when the crew left to go on one of their "hunting" expeditions.

Watkins doesn't find anyone in the garage. It's a typical farm garage, containing various tools, a quartet of bicycles, and a riding mower.

Cao gets in touch with the CVMC's first squad, standing watch on the east road. The squad leader replies, "Roger that, Falcon. We'll keep an eye out. Over."

Abbie & Nash

The tracking team hears motorcycle engines revving up to the east. Campbell has at least a 15 minute lead on them, but his trail is clear as day.


https://drive.google.com/open?...ZAW3&usp=sharing


Your Turn.

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This message was last edited by the GM at 03:52, Mon 10 Feb 2020.

"Ah fucking ha," Scott drawls, cued by Mike and Carissa's reactions.  He lifts the radio handset.  "Sexton checking Ironhorse.  We have two subjects in the woods, headed toward your position.  If they keep running, they should break out of the woods in about five minutes.  Over."

He eyes the power line cut speculatively, but it hasn't seen a mower in a couple of years.  Without a clear view of the ground, he's not about to risk an up-armored SUV on it.  "Eyes out, everybody.  There's still two unaccounted for.  Meadows," addressing the militiaman in the driver's seat, "Get us turned around in case we have to get back out to the road.  After you do that, leave it in gear with your foot on the brake.  If we start taking fire, don't wait for anyone to tell you to get us out of here."