The man looked at Seamus oddly. Then the light came on. Maybe.

"Yes, yes. There is alcohol." He laughed as he said it. He pantomimed drinking to his friend whom said something in reply, also laughing. "You Irish do not say no, eh?"

Seamus was at a loss. He didn't know if he should laugh with the man or punch in the jaw. It about that time that Seamus noticed a man standing near a well in a yard just down the road. He was staring at Carter and Himself. The man was wearing what looked like a Tanker's coverall. A coverall that very much reminded him of the one's worn by her Majesty's tankers.

"Hold on one second, I need to discuss this with my team."

Seamus turned and looked at the man, raising a hand in acknowledgement as he walked towards him. He get both his hands clear of his weapons to make clear that he was unarmed.

There was a moment when Benjamin could feel his hand begun to move to his hip where he had his pistol holstered. He fought down the urge, even as one of the men approached. His suspicions were eased as he saw the approaching man keep his hands visible, clear from any weapons he maybhave on him. Benjamin returned the gesture, keeping his hands out in in front of himself as he began to take steps  towards the strange man in an allied uniform.

When Benjamin has closed the distance to a point where he feels comfortable speaking without raising his voice, he simply says, "Name?"

Tom took note as Seamus headed off from the local he had been chatting to , and moved himself up to see why. He spotted the man in the British tankers uniform, and thought that they might have a new recruit. Assuming he was pukka.

Fedor, for his part, was very armed and had no idea how these people would react when they learned he was Russian.

He watched the events unfold from a distance.

"Hey, another one." The man said.

He repeated the phrase in German to his pal who looked from the two in front of him to the lone man at his back. He said something that drew a laugh from the English speaker.

"My friend says that you are not from the same unit." The man went on, pointing at Pruitt, then back to Seamus. "He was in tanks. Canadian tanks made in Germany. Mighty leopards! But, you, you drove up in trucks last night. Little trucks. Are you not all NATO?"

"Captain Benjamin Pruitt," he finally spoke to break the stalemate between he and the other NATO members, adding, "Canadian Forces, Armored Branch, Lord Strathconas Horse. I'm afraid I'm all that's left however."

"I'm Private Seamus Murphy, formerly of the Queen's Royal Irish Hussars. Also formerly armoured. I guess your lot must be desperate if they're using horses."

Seamus meant that as a joke, but considering the situation, he could have been riding a horse at some point...

He then turned back to the others.

"We are all NATO." If we were Russian, you'd be dead by now.

Benjamin smirked at the comment made by Seamus, "Truth be told, there were rumors that we may have to saddle up. Luckily we were able to scrounge up enough fuel for our push here."

Pruitt let out a breath and looked around, "Glad to see another friendly face, Murphy. What's your status? From the chatter it sounds like you have a few more more with you."

Maybe it was a bit formal for the current situation, but some semblance of order needed to be kept. Though it seemed he may be the odd man out here, so if need be, he'd lay down the Captains bars. He just wanted to know what he was getting in to.

"Our status, sir?" Seamus asked and tried to find the right woods for the situation, then just went for honest. "[expletive] had it. We've been shot at multiple times and buried multiple corpses in the past day or two. We're heading west for something in the United States, or what's left of it. We're in no position - or inclination - to engage in any offensive operations. With all due respect, sir."

Because if he suggested they go back into this war, Seamus was going to show him a fistful of respect.

As if responding to Seamus' words, there was a distant crack of automatic weapons fire to the west. It was distant, maybe a kilometer or closer to two, but it was definitely an exchange of fire.

"I'm sorry to hear that Murphy," Benjamin said sincerely.

He had wanted to relate to the man with tales of his now losses  but now was neither the time nor place. There was comiserating and comparison, and he felt that speaking to his own experiences in this moment would just come off as comparison. No need for that right now.

"Tell you what, I'll come along for the long boat ride. We get across the ocean, I'll part ways with you and yours and head north."

Pruitt looked to the sound on the gunfire and frowned, "We might be done with this war, but I don't think it's quite done with us."

"Sounds like the war still follows." The German said. Turning to his pal he spoke in rapid German and then the two turned. Speaking to Pruitt the man went on, "The tanks, you were with the tanks. Thank you, sorry for your friends. But, I think trouble still calls to you."

Roch flinched at the sound of gunfire. Then he sighed, grabbed his gear and stood up. Nothing seemed to be amiss so he might as well try and find out what these men were doing and if they knew what was going on in the area.

He shouldered his rifle, started to walk towards the men while holding his empty hands up. "Bonjour, no shooting now, s'il vous plaît".

"Shinen!" One of Germans shouted as Toussaint stood up nearby.

"Ha, Bon Chance!" The other said. But, that was real extent of his meager French. "You really frightened us. Thought you might be the Soviets."

In reply to GM (msg # 15):

Seamus turned towards him, trying to glean some details of this guy from the uniform. He was probably French. Or Belgian. Or maybe even Swiss. Seamus had never been able to tell the difference, although there probably was one.

"You don't shoot us, we don't shoot you. What's your name?" he asked.

The automatic fire suggested that they probably didn't want to spend too long around here. It might lead to trouble for these people if they were identified.

"I'm Roch", he said, glancing in the direction of the gunfire the whole time. "Roch Toussaint. You don't happen to know what that's about, non"? Roch nodded towards the sound of shooting, pulled his pale green shemagh scarf down a bit and scratched his stubbled chin. He was dressed in dusty fatigues of the kind worn by the french special forces, boots and a pale green toboggan hat matching the scarf. He also carried full field kit, a tactical vest, a NATO SMG and a sniper rifle slung over his right shoulder.

He seemed composed but weary, almost distant. "Peut-être nous... maybee we see what's what over there"? he asked in a thick french accent.

Pruitt smirked as he watched the new arrival walk towards them without much care in the world. It was hard to say what the man was truly thinking, but by his demeanor he was either really trusting, or had just ran out of <expletive> to give.

"Pruitt," he responded to the newcomer, "To be fair, I have no real need to find out what all the shooting is all about."

Pruitt was really done with the war. He'd come over all gung-ho and ready to fight, but when the scant news that made it over on this side of the Atlantic indicated that some places in North America had been struck with nukes, the wind was completely knocked out of of his sails. He and his crew had fought like hell only to be taken out of the fight. They had made no difference, they had changed nothing.

"I'm going to suggest that we take our leave," Pruitt said reluctantly, then adding, "We can stop at the battleground where I lost my tank and grab any salvageable supplies. From there, I suggest heading west, far away from here."

Tom was surprised when another figure popped up out of the wood work. Obviously his sentry skills needing brushing up as he hadn't spotted any of them. He wandered to find Fedor and asked him "Are there any more people wandering about here who are going to join us - or more importantly try and kill us, mate? I obviously can't spot shit!" he said, trying to make light of it but concerned by his lack of observation skills

ooc

just checking in tbh

"Well, I can't see anyone else at the moment and quite frankly, they're too late..." Seamus remarked.

He turned to the Germans.

"All the best of luck to you. Hope these guys ignore you..."

With a certain sadness, he knew that they almost certainly wouldn't and this place was about to have a very bad day.

There was movement in the distance. With binoculars it was possible to just make out the lead vehicle. It was a UAZ 469 coming around the curve of the old highway at a waling pace. There was a man standing at pintel mounted machine gun. It was far off, around twelve hundred meters at least. But, it was definitely trouble coming their way.

"Merde!" Roch exclaimed. "The shooting 'as found out about you, I think, Pruit'", he said and sprinted for cover, away from the road.

OOC: I'm looking for some place that'll give cover but also an overview of the road leading into the village. Somewhere I can set up the sniper rifle if there is time.

Roch moved up along the side of the road about five yards and found a stable platform along the safety rail coming off the bridge. It allowed him the kneel and set out his rifle's bipod. The on coming troops were still very distant and had no clue of his presence.

Seamus looked to see how far the M1114 HMV was and started running towards it, hoping that they had enough ammo still in there for yet another engagement.

Seriously, when were they going to get a proper rest? When they were dead?

Pruitt also made for cover on the opposite side of the road from Roch and readied his MP5. The Frenchman was right, the fight had found them, now they would have to survive this.

He was about to call out Murphy as the man had run off but thought better of it. He wasn't about to give away his position until the shooting started. Where ever Murphy was heading, it was out of his hands.