Fedor lay behind the back of the hummer looking under it into the distance.

Through the scope of the Dragunov he had found the man that had killed Captain Cave...and almost killed Cycilya.

He was camouflaged in a good position but Fedor could see him, knew where he was just over 700 meters away.

Offhandedly he whispered a response to Cece,

"Da..."

He exhaled slightly with the word and then held his breath and pressed the trigger.

14:45, Today: Fedor Ovcharenko rolled 5,6 using 1d6,1d12 with rolls of 5,6.  Tough Counter-Sniper Shot (-3).

1 Success. Dmg = 3. Location = Arm. Crit Roll = 2

He saw the puff of red mist as the bullet hit but at this range noone could tell the full effect.

In reply to Mike Thompson (msg # 175):

Seamus didn't answer about the driving. He wasn't the world's best driver; he'd gotten a couple of minor faults on his civilian driving test, although he could probably give the vehicle a driving in a pinch.

And it wasn't like speeding tickets were a thing now.

But he was needed to be a gunner. He heard Fedor's shot and looked in the direction of the village to see if that brought about any response. Hopefully someone falling to their death from a window. That would be nice.

Time passed by and no more shots came their way. Everyone was still in cover. But, they had the same hope; Fedor's shot had struck home. Fedor had a good feeling about the shot. The trigger squeeze had broke with a bit surprise and that was good sign. His grip and cheekweld had held solid letting him keep an eye on the target letting him see that there was an impact. The firer had pitched to the side in sort of roll into more concealment.

While it didn't have the inherent range and accuracy of a solid bolt action rifle, the SVD was a very functional weapon. And one he enjoyed firing. A thought cross his very Russian mind; was it a coincidence that fun and functional shared a root word in several languages.

Carter couldn't help but to keep checking their flanks. Those long, open, ground covered fields offered a lot of opportunity to a well trained crew. He gritted his teeth fearing an AT missile would suddenly come rocketing their way.

Seamus kept his eyes on the village. (OOC: I have confused Seamus, and maybe a few others. the sniper in not in or near the village. sorry to confuse you. the sniper is sort opposite the village. i will try to get a map of the area up soon.) He watched as shutters were closed. Probably in anticipation of a firefight. Then, did they know something he did not?

Thompson was looking about the area, keeping out of the line of sight of the sniper even after the mad Russian spy had taken his shot. He couldn't help but notice a stand of distant foliage. It just didn't jive somehow with the rest of the field. He couldn't put his finger on it. What Carter had warned them of stuck in the back of his mind, so Thompson stayed in a position that allowed him to look towards where the sniper fire came from as well as turn his head and watch that odd bit of foliage.

Cecylia was gathering herself emotionally. The last seventy-two hours had been very difficult on all of them. But, she was feeling it particularly close. Since the war had brought them to this area their little group had become very tight, close in a way she had never expected. And now each loss was like losing a relative. Maybe she just needed a few nights of sound, and safe, sleep.

"Cyan go now Sergeant. Should go now."

He continued to watch the area where the sniper had been and it's nearby environs. The narrow relief of the scope made searching difficult but he had a point of reference and limited his scan to it.

There was crackling, static riddled radio message. Or part of one.

"...two klicks due east of Slawin. The last helos will be pulling out at twenty-three hundred hours." A deep, and tired, woman's voice was saying. "All NATO district.." Static drowned out the voice, "are to proceed south along route..." her voice cracked, modulation differential during a frequency hop, " are advised to avoid conflicts with local forces that are also fleeing the advancing Soviet units..."

There was a whip-crack of static and squelch and the voice disappeared as suddenly as it had came over the radio. All that was left was faint whistle of the wind across the ground. There was the faint sound of insects in the distance.

Seamus heard the radio broadcast and continued to look for the sniper. It was entirely likely that the sniper had gone, one way or enough.

"No sense sitting round here waiting for him to set up again", he suggested. ""I do not fancy being the next person to die."

"Right, we need to get moving again," commented Mike. He glanced again at Fedor. "Fedor, you sure that you hit the sniper? And we either need another driver or we're condensing into one vehicle now. Any volunteers?"

Tom Looks up "I can give it a go if you like."

"Hit Da, kill Nyet."

He popped to his feet, still crouching somewhat in the shadow of the HUmvee, and tossed the SVD into the back seat.

"We go. I drive."

He opened the door for CeCe, leaving it open, and then bundled Capt. Cave's body into the cargo area (making sure to get the captain's weapon). It was perhaps a bit disturbing to watch as it was obvious Fedor has handled bodies by himself before.

Last he swung into the drivers seat and started the vehicle.

Getting moving again, the group picked themselves up. The radio message had been as unexpected as the sniper attack. But, it did make for a good reminder that Soviets have radios too. Fedor had just settled into the driver's seat and was about to start the HMMWV when another message came over the radio.


"Hold down the fort.  I'll be back if this doesn't work out," a man, an American, said. The transmission came through loud and clear. It was close, maybe within twenty kilometers.

What fort? Who was holding it down? Where was it? And just what was he about to do?

Several minutes later there was another transmission from the American in their area, and it wasn't what they wanted to hear, "Ragnarok six to any available NATO mortar or artillery battery.  Immediate suppression, Grid 697751, Soviet motorized rifle company in the open...
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:45, Tue 16 Nov 2021.

Tom sat in the vehicle as they bounced along, bounced again out of their position, and still unable to deal honourably with their dead, or even catch a breather.

When the radio sparked, he picked up the handset, looking at Mike and asking "Do we wanna respond to that? I'm not too hot on comms proceedure."

ooc
Not to sure what the comms system looks like for these Hummers, I am imagining a CB type thing, but I suppose it might be a head set plugged in somewhere?
This message was last edited by the player at 13:15, Wed 17 Nov 2021.

When the shot rang out, so close to her, it snapped Cecylia out of whatever reverie she had been in. She became acutely aware of the tears still stinging her eyes and how cold they felt as they rolled along her cheeks and down her neck. She sniffed too loudly for her taste and try to brush them off her face. She didn't feel ashamed by her display of emotion, simply caught off guard by it. Although much younger, Sean reminded her... had reminded her of Jules, in a way.

She watched Fedor put the lifeless body of the Captain into the HMMWV and felt something welt up again in the back of her throat. She took a deep breath, which she let out with a shudder of emotion.

Goodbye Sean. You got us this far.

This was life, now.

She smiled briefly at Fedor, a silent thank for his opening the door for her. She climbed in.

Like they had done so often before, Cecylia sat in silence next to Fedor, looking at the map in her lap now and again, making small notations. She glanced back at the mounted machine gun.

“I guess you're gonna have to show me how to use that at some point in the near future...” she said in Russian.

Even though Mike, Thomas and Seamus were just a few meters behind them, for a moment, Cecylia almost forgot about them. It was, for all intent and purposes, back to how things had been: just Fedor and her. Just the two of them, on the move, with no destination but West. Now that they had a vehicle, fuel, supplies... they could just hunker down somewhere and let the war roll over them. Grab a little farm along the way and just live there. Just forget everything.

“What if we manage to get to that NATO evac point and it's the real deal? You wanna go?”
This message was last edited by the player at 00:54, Wed 17 Nov 2021.

In reply to Thomas Carter (msg # 186):

"Not yet," replied Mike as he slowed the HMMWV down, looking for somewhere that they could park up for a few moments. "We need to work out where that grid is on the map and avoid it. Write it down for me please. I think that he said 697751."

Once they found somewhere to stop Mike got the map out and consulted Cecylia, trying to work out where they were in relation to the grid reference. If they could quickly bury at least one of the bodies then even better.

Tom had been trying to keep track of where they were on the map, so he "helped" when they tried to locate it on the map. Once they had it he looked in that direction, to see if there was any sign of incoming in that area, or even if they had heard something that could have been it.

"Sounds like that area may be getting hot, if its not already. So If we head there we won't have long to restock - assuming they let us, or haven't bugged out."

"I go where you go. There cannot be worse than here."

Fedor looked up at the mirror.

"They are stopping. Should we stop?"

Seamus heard the discussion about the incoming artillery strike and hoped they weren't close enough to the impact spot for it to hurt. For his part, he was still manning the gun, although crouched down a bit behind the shield in case a sniper decided he was next on the menu. Quite possibly literally in this day and age.

As they stopped, Seamus scanned the area for any bushes of the 'am' persuasion.

23:31, Today: Seamus Murphy rolled 10 using 1d10 ((10)).
This message was last edited by the player at 22:31, Thu 18 Nov 2021.

"You've never been to diner with my mother," she said with a momentary grin.

She hadn't thought of her parents in what felt like forever. The last time she had spoken with them, they had been in London. The last time she had heard of London was when nukes had begun falling on it.


She rolled her eyes and snorted a short laugh. "We better. What if they find some Bigos and we're not there?"

As the vehicle rolled to a stop, she took the map from between their seats and grabbed her compact SMG.

"Come on," she said, putting a hand on Fedor's shoulder. "Let's get through today."

The drive, even with Sean's lifeless body in the back, had allowed Cecylia to work back some semblance of composure. She climbed out of the HMMWV, map already half-folded out in her hand and walked up to Mike's opened door. They conferred briefly about the grid and radio call the whole team had heard.

“Grid is little northwest of depot,” she said glancing in the depot's direction as if she could see it. “It might be not related,” she added with a frown, not believing a word of it herself.

“If artillery would have answered on radio, we would hear, yes?” she said to Mike. “We are already close to depot. If there is Soviet, we can leave. If there is no, we get supplies.”

She folded the map and slipped it into her load-bearing vest. Leaning down, she put an arm on the opened door to support herself, a thick curl of bright red hair falling from her ear and to the side of her face. “We might not make evac point. Or maybe we make but no one there. If we need travel far, we need supply. Food. Water. Fuel. Parts for vehicle.”

She held Mike's gaze for a moment before glancing to Seamus and Thomas.

“You are CO of H platoon now,” said Cecylia, looking at Mike again. “I am just Language and Cultural Specialist,” she said with a shrug. “Depot might be dangerous, but I would like to see this NATO Culture for supplies,” she continued with a smirk.

She jerked her chin towards the radio. "Should we tell American we are close? Maybe he come to us? Maybe he tell us where Soviet is?"

Mike looked at the map and confirmed where the grid reference pointed to. He then tried to work out where they were now. "Cecylia, where do you think that we are?" he asked, cross referencing his opinion with hers to be certain. He didn't reply to her comment about him now being the CO of H platoon. He knew that and he felt the weight on his shoulders that this responsibility came with. He was far too old for this.

"I want to look at the supply depot but it might be best to go on foot once we're quite close as that's what we're trained for," he explained to everyone. Well, some of them were trained for recon work. "I also want to start burying the bodies. Let's dig a single grave initially, just to try to get someone in the ground. Tom and Cecylia, you start doing that. Fedor and Seamus, you two keep watch. I'll try contacting Ragnarok Six and see what that gets us." Ragnarok Six. Probably an officer, quite possibly a REMF Supply Officer who was going to take command even though they didn't know what they were doing. Mike hoped not.

"Ragnarok Six this is Hotel Five, SITREP please." he broadcast. Hopefully the officer would give him a load of information at minimal risk to the remains of H platoon.

Tom nodded at Mike and said to Cecylia "So our first date is digging a grave. Am I smooth or what?" and grins sheepishly, before getting a shovel from the hummer and after choosing a likely spot starting to dig.

He muttered to himself "I wonder how many of these we are going to start before we manage to give these guys a decent burial..."

There was an unexpected explosion.

All heads turned, whipping towards the blast. For Seamus and Thompson it was clear what had just happened because both had been on a battlefield where wire guided missiles had been used often enough. And one just land about one hundred meters short of the M1114 when it ran out of guidance wire. Fedor didn't have to guess to hard to understand that an attack on the HMMWVs with an ATGM had just occurred. It was something he had done at a previous time in his own life.

A few seconds later came the sound, a sort low rumble caused by the missile's passage through the air. Fedor recognized the sound, a KONKURS. The missile's contrail come from the edge of the tree line to the east, nearly two kilometers away. Probably a team working with the sniper earlier. Carter nearly dropped his shovel even as he lunged for the first scoop of earth. Cecylia's reply fell unspoken from her thoughts. She was just glad that they hadn't chosen to drag the bodies off the HMMWVs yet.

Thompson was standing at the side of the M998 and about to say something that every NCO should say in such an event, stopped, and decided it just wasn't needed. He turned his head, realizing everyone had just unassed the vehicles making them a stationary target, and opened his mouth to say something when there was what sounded like a double squelch on the radio. His head turned, again, and he looked at the radio. Now what?
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:22, Sat 20 Nov 2021.

Seamus swung his heavy machine gun towards the direction of the contrail to see what anything was visible. It was tempting to just blast the area with automatic fire, but at that range, he wasn't very likely to hit anything. And he didn't want to find out what had engaged them from two kilometres away. Because it could easily engage them again.

"Is Goddamn anti-tank missile KONKURS!"

Fedor beat on the hull of Seamus' humvee with his palm.

"Shoot! Shoot! Goddammit, they do not know you can't hit them!"

He hustled around to the drivers side of his own vehicle and swung into the drivers seat. He started the vehicle but waited for CeCe (and anyone else who is getting in) to get in before he moved.

"Mount up and let's get the hell out of here!" Mike called to everyone as he hurried back to his own vehicle and climbed into the driver's seat. When Carter climbed in next to him he turned to the medic. "Keep listening to the radio. That bloke Ragnarok Six sent a double squelch so he's alive but having to keep quiet. My guess is that he's at the supply depot and it's currently being approached by enemy forces."

He then started driving away from the direction the missile had come from before, after he was sure that they had put enough distance between them and whoever had fired it to be unobserved, turning in the direction of the supply depot.

"God damn Russians are well equipped," he muttered to himself as he drove. "First helicopters and now they're firing a bloody anti-tank missile at a HMMWV. Enough munitions to blow them on us. And we had reports that the Soviet vehicles were using petrol not alcohol in their counterattack. They must have had massive reserves that they just cashed in. And they ain't stopping."

In reply to Fedor Ovcharenko (msg # 198):

Seamus yelled back.

"I am not wasting good ammo on a target I have no chance of hitting!"

As they drove away, he continued to keep an eye on the direction the missile had come from, but doubted he was going to get anything at the moment. He wished he was back in his tank.