Feel free to pursue if you'd like or hold and report in St.Petersburg, up to you if you want to take another option.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:33, Wed 08 Sept 2021.

How much leeway does he have in the conducting of his missions?  Are any 9f the better crates where he can look in one without being seen?

Yes, they are strewn about the loading area. With an agility roll, I'd let you get to them without being seen. Then you can feel free to cut into them. It looks like you'll only get a turn or two in before you'll be seen.

Unsure exactly why he is doing it, Phoenix steps out into view of the Russian soldiers.  Stark naked in the freezing cold, he holds his hand up show that he is completely unarmed.

 Rifles and pistols quickly surround Phoenix. The Foreman has a patch over his eye and a tall fur hat. He spits out the remains of his self-rolled cigarette's tobacco and steps up to James blowing a puff of smoke into his face and tossing the rest into the snow. "Что ты здесь делаешь? Кто ты?"

(OOC: From Russian - "What are you doing here? Who are you?")

Whoa.  Whoa.  Whoa, he says, waving his hands to emphasize that he is very obviously unarmed.  Luckily, he has learned a handful of wordsПривет.  Do any of you English?  английский?

 The man with the had looked a bit older and more grizzled than eighty percent of these guys. His words turn to English as he repeats his question, " Кто ты? Who are you? This place...limited-off."

 The other men seem to tense up when he asks again. The foreman's eyes glancing about for some ideas or foul play at work. "Он сумасшедший, стреляйте в него!"

(OOC: From Russian: "He's crazy shoot him!)

Oh, thank God.  Someone who speaks English, he says with a look of relief on his face.  I was in Berlin, a tourist.  I got attacked.  I got hit, everything went black.  Then, I woke up back there.
He indicates the direction he had come from with a slight jerk of his head.  They took everything from me  My money, my ID, my clothes even.  I guess they left me here to freeze to death.

 The grizzled leader squints in the early morning darkness. "Достань этому мужчине одеяло с кузова грузовика."

 The rest of the men shifted uncomfortably until one man stepped to the back of the truck and produced a blanket, the man receives a nod from the grizzled veteran. He takes a long puff on his hand rolled cigarrette, this time more politely blowing it aside. It was about this time that the other man held it out wide for James to allow him to wrap him in the rough wool blanket. The man winced when he got close to Phoenix, surprised at the warmth he radiated. The old man leaned in, "You are robbed?"

(OOC: From Russian: :"Get this man a blanket from the back of the truck.")

He accepts the blanket, holding closed around him.  He thought he had dampened his temperature so it would seem more normal.  He does so now, shivering as he feels the cold blow up under the blanket and against his feet, his legs, and is nethers.
Yes robbed.  I saw a man in a black military uniform, with a weapon, I think.  Then everything went black and I woke up here.  My clothes and everything gone.
He was about to claim they had even taken his hand, but the strange woman had managed to get it to regrow somehow.  My watch, my money, my identification, my luggage, all gone.  I was in Berlin, and something strange had happened.  I'm not sure what, but these men in what looked like military uniforms appeared.

 The older man nods appreciatively and slaps Phoenix on the back good-naturedly, "Madness is what's heard on the radio waves. Deutsch are always crazy men. Rest easy now."

 He stands at his full height again, proffering some vodka that someone handed to him. "Drink."

 After that, he barks some orders in Russian again, and the men begin to continue to load things up onto the motor wagons. He turns back to James with a wink, "My men get you back on train to go west, Rossiya winter is no place for naked man."

 He seems genuine even if also more than a little suspicious given his seeming affiliations.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:23, Fri 17 Sept 2021.

No winter is a place for a naked man, he responds as he takes the offered vodka.  How do you say "Thank you?"
He watches the soldiers collecting the crates for a few moments as he takes a small sip of the alcohol.  Ugh.  This is horrible weather to send you fellows out on a supply run  Must be the truly important stuff.
He holds up the cup of vodka to indicate his implied meaning.

 The grizzled man thinks a moment, "Spasibo, is term," he states as he pulls a mouthful from the bottle himself.

 "We are commissioned to take this stuff to St.Petersburg Museum," he says flatly, "antiques and equipment mostly, some bones, but the pay is nice for my company. We wait to be called for Bosnia war currently."

 "Saying this stuff is to be taken to the Suvorov Museum. Apparently, they are seizing all of dis," gesturing to the truckloads, "that were sold to da wealthy in da west, back. Eh."

That is interesting, Phoenix says with a smile.  My employer is a fine antiquities curator for the American Museum of Natural History back in the United States.  He sent me to Berlin to the museums to do research.

 "Is that so?"

 He moves to one of the trucks, "Then tell me what they would want with something like this?"

 The man throws back the canvas to show a machine that looks like one part boiler radiator and another part with something like a set of tuning forks sticking out of a metallic barrel at varying heights. He's about to drop the canvas back down to secure and watches Phoenix carefully, apparently interested in his response. He points to a large round shape apparently made of thick rubber and a metal case covers the middle portion of the thick donut-shaped object, black except for some writing on it that shows various numbers, and English words, MICHELIN. "What the hell is this?"

 The other men continue to finish the final loading around them as he converses with James.

A surprised look crosses the Armerican's face as the 9bjexts are revealed.  Those don't look much like fine antiquities to me.  They look way more modern than that.
He points to the round, rubber object with the metal center.  That looks like some kind of... if a tire.  I've never seen anything like that other thing.  How can these be antiquities?  They look like parts to some kind of machine.

 The man shrugs, "they want d'ese things returned for some reason. It makes no sense. Though d'ere are many crates we did not get into. D'eres at least one painting in here," he laughs with his belly at that one, "and one that smells of putrid meat. I don't think you'll want to go where we are taking these."

 He begins to turn and gathers you around the shoulders with his large arms aiming James at the train station, "my man Uri will take you to the train station and see that someone gets you some clothes. Perhaps d'en you'll remember what's happened to you."

22:21, Today: Phoenix rolled 18 using 1d100.  Excellent Intuition-read the sergeant's actions.

22:20, Today: Phoenix rolled 77 using 1d100.  Gd Reason-what are the items shown to him.

22:20, Today: Phoenix rolled 10 using 1d100.  Gd reason-anything unusual about the items shown to him .

 The items seem to be far more complicated than mere household items, though the thing that reminds you of a tire, is far more advanced than any tire you've yet witnessed, but has after a fashion, spokes, and a central hub with some kind of cap on it. Its manufacture and precision seem nearly impossible in any common factory currently in existence or in the past, at least that Phoenix is aware of.

Do you mind if I take a closer look at that tire?  If allowed, he moves closer to look for any manufacturer identifying marks; words, numbers, logos.  Anything that may identify a manufacturer.  He even looks at the whole thing using his thermographic vision.
Unfortunately, he spots nothing that could identify the manufacturing company.  This thing does not look like any tire I have ever seen.

 The foreman hefts the large wheel and begins to roll it over to Phoenix as he inspects it. In answer to his remark, he shrugs obviously out of his depth with this kind of thing but he's clearly amazed as well, "I really don't too."

 A couple of the men stopped to watch as you look at the finds. One of the younger men asks in English, "Why do they want it back Dimitri?"

 He responds with a faraway look and a clearing of his throat, "They want for study, to give Russia winning strategy. That is all. Ладно, пошли все!"

 The leader claps his hands together and makes a "circling of the wagons" gesture. The men leap into action clambering into the back of the wagons and the drivers start up their engines.

(OOC: From Russian: "OK, let's go everyone!")

He looks closely at the wheel and tire as it set before him by the Russian.  Clad only in the wool blanket, he kneels down to look at sections of it more closely.
Finally, he stands.  It is really cold out here, he says as his teeth chatter.  Is there something more than a blanket I can wear?  This cold could make a man a woman.
<Orange>
01:14, Today: Phoenix rolled 54 using 1d100.  Rm Intuition-what can he learn from the wheel and tire?

01:14, Today: Phoenix rolled 10 using 1d100.  Gd Reason-what can he learn from the wheel and tire?

</Orange

 Phoenix examines the tire more closely again and can see some writing and numbers on the side of it that doesn't seem to make much sense. One appeared to be maybe a French name, "Michelin". The tire would've been able to keep a very large vehicle off the ground it looked like, despite its relatively lightweight in comparison to its size. Intuitively he knew there was something about this tire though, it looked almost alien, if not for the Arabic lettering and numerals, including a year it looked like. 1992

 The man nods to the young man again who begins to head towards the train station and gestures for you to follow in response to your question. The grizzled older fellow raises his cup, "Spacibo my new friend! Good luck!"

 If Phoenix followed the young man, he would find that he takes him to the train station and inside is a wood hearth, a few others were inside, one sleeping in a seat presumably waiting for the next train. The ticketmaster comes out of his office in concern and surprise. The two men converse in Russian for a moment before the man produces a shirt, jacket and trousers. They are old and in beat-up shape, but serviceable and warm. The man puts up a hand and nods to a question from the young man, going back into his office, "He looks for some shoes or boots for you. I hope you have more luck now. Goodbye."

 He waves as he takes his leave replacing his hat on his head as he steps out.

And spacibo to you, as well, friend, he responds with a wave and a sm8le.  Hopefully, the next time I visit, it will be voluntary, and I will speak the language.
At the train station, he thanks them for the clothes, and that they are trying to find shoes as well.  It is not much.  No coat, hat, or gloves either, but he is not concerned with that right now.  He maintains the wool blanket for use as a cloak for the time being, as he sits down on a bench to await the train.

 By dawn the train comes pulling into the station, you'd beaten the train by a few short hours it seemed. In the meantime, the ticketmaster's wife had found a pair of wool knit socks and brought them to the station for you along with some old boots the ticketmaster had used, not in great shape but again serviceable. No one seemed the wiser when told of your condition, and everyone felt sorry for the strange things that had befallen you, and James is welcomed back onto the train, by the time the train began again, you'd already found your cargo and room with a free pastry from the smiling cook.

<Fade to Black>

OOC: We'll meet back up in the new 1.6 thread.