NationStates Jolt Archive

A blood red sunrise broke over the camp, which had been awake much earlier. Isolated in the scrubby deserts of a hostile region, the camp was more than able to keep away from prying eyes in order to fulfill its mission. Daylight, however, proved an unwelcome guest. MSgt. Kenny opened her eyes for the third time since being woken sometime after midnight, shook her head to clear the cobwebs, and instantly regretted the motion as a sharp pain stabbed behind her temples in protest.

“Everyone alright?” she asked thickly, while looking over her bruised and bloodied squad.

She was met with grunts and other half-hearted sounds in response. Some were afraid, some were injured, but all of them were confused. Not twelve hours ago, two Blackhawk helicopters had been transporting the squad of coalition forces to a training exercise, when they met with hostile ground-based fire. Both helos were shot down, killing the pilots and quite a few of the squad in the crash. The enemies were on them before any one could think to react, and the survivors were rounded up. Their weapons, ammo, communication systems, and anything else of importance had been confiscated. The squad was herded into transport vehicles at gun-point, with the enemy screaming at them in a language none of them could understand.

Several bumpy hours later, they arrived at the camp. Kenny was identified as most senior in rank, and was forced into the southern portion of the compound with half of the surviving squad, while the other half was ushered into the northern portion. Kenny barked after them to follow protocol and was hit mildly with a rifle-butt to the face for her efforts. Knocked down, the enemy dragged her roughly along until she could regain her footing.

Now daybreak found the squad sitting in the sand with wrists bound tightly around a pole at their backs. They’d heard nothing from the north all night, save a single cry of pain. Now they all looked up at the sound of yelling from the north, and a shot rang out with a sense of finality. Not long after, a door at the end of the small courtyard opened, and out stepped three well-armed men conversing in low tones. Two of them approached Kenny, and one taking her by each arm, pulled her to a standing position and cut the bonds from her wrists. Shrugging them off, she followed obediently to the door where the third man was re-entering the building. They led her into a small dark room, and shoved her into a chair with some harsh word or another. From the relative darkness before her loomed the third man, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Moving intentionally, he produced a knife, a hammer, and a book of matches and set them all on a table clearly within her view.

“Now,” he began in English, with surprisingly little accent, “We have a few questions for you. I highly suggest you cooperate.”

OOC: Anyone who wants to join in is welcome to do so. I need some people to play the other squad members, and eventually we'll need a rescue team. Any takers?

OOC: Some quick questions: What nationality are the troops?
What nationality is the enemy?
Could the enemy have 'hired' some advisors?

Alcona: The troops are coalition, so any nation can have one of their particular servicemen in this squad. I had planned on the enemy being somewhat of a guerilla or terrorist cell, so it's largely mixed, but covers a lot of the stereotypes. As for advisors, whomever takes up the part of the enemy can pretty much do what they want with it, but advisors would fit nicely into any plans. I have a basic idea planned out, but I want to try and let it become open-ended.

TAGGED!!!

“Master Sergeant Kenny, Gaeltach Armed Forces. Service number GT7839-“

“Stop evading the question!” the big man yelled, back-handing her across the face. “I didn’t ask for your identification.”

“I’d really like some breakfast, is this almost done?”

The big man’s eyes flared with anger, and he grabbed the knife. Laying the blade flush along her cheek, he leaned in until their faces were separated by mere inches. “You know, I had really planned on hurting you. But instead, I’m going to send you back outside. You’re going to sit in the desert sun for a few hours. Now while you’re there, I want you to think about all the things I can do with a knife a hammer and a lighter.”

Slicing the blade across her cheek, he stood and stepped back, nodding to the two guards. They dragged her back outside once more, and lashed her to the pole. The sun had already begun heating the air, and the temperature was rising quickly. Before long, the squad would wish they could remove their BDU jackets. Kenny closed her eyes and rested her head against the pole. The cut on her face stung as beads of perspiration already began forming and dripped down across the wound.

“What do they want?” asked a young soldier nearby.

“Information,” she replied quietly. “Don’t answer any of their questions, no matter what.”

“This has got to be the training mission. I mean, this stuff doesn’t just happen out of the blue, right Sergeant?”

Ivan Devak… she thought, remembering that particular bit from the line of questioning. Who the hell is that?

Overhead, the sun and the temperature inched higher.

OOC: You seem to be doing well with the oppostion so I'm just going to let one of my poor lost souls (mercs) taunt the master sargent.

A figure walked near the pole and the master sargent. It was wearing a uniform, worn blue grey and markings that were somewhat in contrast to the rest of the group. In place of military headgear was a wide brimmed straw hat, it shaded the face of the person who just stared at the master sargent for a moment.

"You know, I'd get a nice bonus if I could get you to talk..." The voice was a bit drowl and cultured. Similar to a scottish accent but less harsh.

"Now then, you could have some water if you'd tell me what they want to know...Or you can stand there and dry out..." He bent down at the knees and poured a bit of water on the ground. The sand absorbed it, becoming dark brown.

"See the water?" He picked up the spot of wet sand and brought it close to her face..."Smell the water?..." He crushed the small pile of sand and let it drop to the ground.

"Either you get it or the earth does, now why don't we work out a deal?"

Squinting against the sun, she stared sideways up at this new yet different enemy from beneath the brim of her BDU cover, now dripping with sweat absorbed from her scalp and forehead. A wry grin pulled at one corner of her mouth at his question.

"This place looks a bit dryer than me at the moment. Go ahead and waste your reserves on the sand. Besides," she replied closing her eyes once more, "I don't have much to say."

But oh how that water was tempting in the growing heat. Thankfully, she hadn't yet reached a critical point of thirst.

ooc: may i be the rescue (or a part thereof)?

OOC: Certainly...but wait a little bit before we bring that in.

OOC: The way these things usually go, I think you have plenty of time before you need to worry about it. :wink:

Kills double post...

He turned away from her and towards the rest of the team...

"It seems your Sargent doesn't want to give you boys and girls water." He starts to pour the bottle out on the ground infront of them.

"Now when some of you are more reasonable to answer a few, simple, questions to end your thirst. Just remember that me and my water bottles are there in the cool shade waiting for you to just...talk."

He walked under a camoflaged canopy that was also covering an armored vehcile of some kind. He sat down in a cloth and metal chair, leaded over and pulled another bottle of water out from the ground. He gave a salute with the bottle then leaned back, smiling.

ooc: i'll keep watching for a good cue until 1:30 or so, when i've to go to bed. meanwhile, a small role:

"Who would have thought that untied boots could be fatal?" thought PFC Stepanov, a young trooper in the northern camp, the fourth to step over the body of another of the coalition, shot for falling into one of the enemies after tripping over his shoelaces. The northern camp was being herded from where they were tied up to an area farther away from the camp, whose increasing stench gave it away as a latrine of sorts. "Nice enough to give us a piss break," he muttered under his breath. From what he could see from the middle of the line, his squad had gotten quite a beating - some were limping, some bloody, most bruised, all very sandy and disheveled, hands on their heads as they trudged off. They were guarded by a rather motely but well-armed and surprisingly clean-looking bunch. He stared at the two machine gun ammo belts that one wore, that made an X over his bare and bronzed chest and back. When he turned around, Stepanov got a better view of the man's well-built frame, and the M60 machine gun he cradled.

Whoever he was, he'd spent too long in the sun to be identified as any nationality. "Must've watched Rambo too many times." His accent gave him away as hispanic, "Ey! What 'chu staring at?" Stepanov lowered his head, hands still on it. Glancing around, he couldn't guess as to the identity of any of these guys (and all he could see were men) - uniforms or bits thereof from all over, weapons from America, Russia, and - what was this? - in the distance, partly covered by some camouflaged netting, sat what was unmistakably a Berëzan BTP-1 APC.

The stench grew worse, the line stopped moving. More yelling from the front of the line - some wiseguy thought that they really did get a piss break. An American combat boot to his stomach corrected that false notion. Stepanov then noticed the stakes in the ground, and some of the guards walking around with rope. No break, after all - just a more interesting place to sit.

ooc: oh yeah, do you have any plans for "ivan devak"? if you do, they're probably more interesting than mine, but if not, let me know

ooc: oh yeah, do you have any plans for "ivan devak"? if you do, they're probably more interesting than mine, but if not, let me know

Send me a TM

That water was looking better and better. They found their thoughts wandering under the weight of monotony, and the intense heat. The sun was almost directly overhead, and beat down on the soldiers with a near palpable ferocity. They could hear marching from the north side earlier, but the walls were to high too see more than the tiniest glimpse as people passed narrow cracks in the side.

Kenny tried to sleep, but it would not come. From time to time, she simply stared at the man with the water. He was always watching, waiting for someone to crack. Irritated, her stoic gaze turned to a glare beneath the slight shadow cast by her BDU cover. Beside and behind her, she could hear the soldiers talking to each other in semi-hushed tones. It was good to hear them supporting each other in this trial by fire.

The soldier beside her didn't look like he was doing so well.

"You alright there private?"

He looked up and nodded with a slight smile, but anyone could tell it was superficial.

"Hey, buck up. This isn't so bad. It's a vacation on the beach, ok? See if you can take a nap."

His head slumped forward a bit, perhaps in response to her suggestion. Perhaps not. Kenny returned to her own thoughts. They'd all been trained for resistance, but the extreme heat was a new element. They would be alright for a day or two, but after that...

A woman in a similar uniform came out from behind the vehicle. She stood covered in grease and looking at the group as the man nodded and handed her a water bottle.

She walked out into the sun, her skin was a dark tan. Her origins might be nodic or something similar except for the skin, she almost looked as if her skin was naturally that color. She looked at the prisinors without saying anyting and then just said...'bloody fools,' before turning and returning to the shade. The sound of metal hitting metal as the woman began looking through a tool box could be heard.

The big interrogator stepped out into the sun once more. Snapping to attention, two men approached him presumably to receive orders. Kenny couldn't catch what was said, but she wouldn't have understood the language anyway. Weapons in hand, they jogged through the open door and disappeared inside.

Top Dog, as she had nicknamed the big man, walked slowly and deliberately towards the restrained squad. Casually, he stopped a grabbed a bottle of water from beneath the shade and opened it for a drink as he resumed the slow approach. In his free hand, he waved the small knife Kenny had seen earlier, pacing before the squad not unlike some feline predator.

"Must be hot in those jackets, team," he taunted. "Everybody feelin' ok?"

Asshole... breathed Kenny, refusing to open her eyes and acknowledge him.

"You," he barked, crouching in front of the soldier beside Kenny. "Son, you don't look so well. Heat gettin' to ya?"

The soldier didn't respond, but remained slumped over.

"Stay with me, boy. You're no use to me if you die now." There was a malicious undercurrent to his sympathetic tone that made the hair on the back of Kenny's neck stand on end. Standing, Top Dog poured the water over the soldier's head much to the protest of the other squad members.

Moving in front of Kenny, Top Dog knocked her cover up a bit to get her attention. Crouching slightly, he waved the knife in her face with a devilish grin.

"How 'bout you, hun? Little thirsty? ...I hope you've been thinking about this here," he prompted, lifting her chin with the knife. "Cause we're gonna have some fun later."

Scowling, she looked past him, refusing an admission of her mild distress. Who the hell were these people? What did she and her squad have anything to do with this?

Standing once more, Top Dog crossed back to the shade and pulled the water boy in the strange uniform aside. He exchanged a few quiet words and briskly returned to the darkened building seperating the two portions of the camp.

-----

On the North side of the camp, the two guards sent from the south patrolled the line of prisoners with guns held ready, searching the faces of their captives for any signs of weakness. God help whomever they selected.

The uniformed man just swore in some odd lanquage after the door closed. He looked back at the group and snarled a bit...turning his attention now to the vehcile behind him.

The sound of clinks and clanks could be heard as the two worked on reparing some part in the shade. It looked like a fuel pump.

About thirty minutes later the woman came out into the sun again. She was scowling about something and swearing. She stopped and looked down at one of the prisinors.

"Well, I think you should be feeling cooler soon." She pulled out a small pocket knife and gripped the man's pants. She made a cut into the fabric of the pants and began to cut the leg off. A few moments later she was walking away with the pant at her side, whistling a tune.

Another person was standing in the semi-darkness of a second building, not far away from that building where MSgt Kenny had had her first lesson in local conversation practices.
The person looked out of the window that allowed a complete over watch over the whole compound, the northern part as well as the southern part.

A small red dot glowed in the shadows where the persons mouth was supposed to be. The light moved down and a small amount of light-grey smoke escaped through the open window.
Just when the man Kenny had called ‘Top Dog’ returned to the first building the shadow lifted his left arm and signalised him to come there.
For one or two moments the light of the rising sun touched the shadow’s hand and revealed (for the local climate unnatural) white skin. Fiery-red tattoos on the knuckles contrasted with the skin, looked like fresh blood on a wedding dress, or a butchers clothing.

ooc: hey gaeltech, since you started this whole thing, you feel like playing the role of home base or whoever cares that the squad's missing? i'll have to interact with you to play out the rescue.

The big man had been on his way to join the two guards he'd sent ahead when the shadowed figure caught his attention. Barking a command after them, he turned sharply and made his way to the second building. The bull of a man filled the breadth of the recessed stairway as he climbed up to the observation tower, and stepped into the shadows behind his summoner. Out the window, he could see a few men setting up sensory deprivation chambers in the small prison yard seperating the two portions of the camp.

----

Nellis Coalition Base, unknown distance south, south west from the camp:
Walking briskly, young Lt. McGuire halted in front of his Captain's door, came to attention, and knocked twice. Looking up from his desk, the Captain waved him in. Squaring his corners, McGuire positioned himself 2 paces in front of the Captain's desk and saluted.

"Sir, Lt. McGuire reports as ordered."

"Be at ease. What have you got for me, McGuire?" he asked, returning the salute.

"At least 18 hours over-due now, sir. And no communication since take-off. Sir, should we dispatch a search and rescue unit?"

Folding his hands across his desk, the Captain thought momentarily. There were no known hostilities in this region, so he had no reason yet to suspect foul play, though the thought briefly flickered through his mind. "Probably mechanical trouble. Send a three craft unit to fly their intended course and see if you can find them."

"Yes, sir."

Returning to his unit headquarters, he phoned ahead orders to assemble three helo crews. They had to be ready to go at report time in 4 hours.

((Sent you a TG about being the bad guy in this promising thread.))

are these helo crews just airmen, or some troopers as well?

The man at the window didn’t turn round when the other man entered the room. He took a drag from his cigarette. Again light-grey smoke escaped through the window, danced in the sunlight for a moment and vanished. He seemed to be watching the figures the smoke created before he simply asked:

>>Anything yet?<<*


*translated from the same unintelligible language the three in the first post used

Corporal Hans Mittler was barely sensible. He felt an agony in his head, and couldn't hear properly. Somehow, he knew, they had all been captured. As one of the medics, he felt it was his duty to try to help the others, but could barely stay conscious as it was. He wished he could touch the little picture of the youthful Empress Aurora in his pocket for luck, or his crucifix.
Private First Class Lisa Gobler tried to keep him awake by nudging him. The 19 year old signals operator knew he had a concussion, and she was worried about some of the burns she could see on his arm. She was battered and bruised, one eye was partly shut, but she knew she would manage.
The heat was unbearable. For Mittler it was part of the general haze, but for Gobler it was a nightmare. She came from the south of Lavenrunz, close enough to see the blue haze of the Antarctic glaciers, and even acclimatization had not prepared her for being subject to this. It was obscene, she felt like she was taking a bath in her clothes, and getting filthier by the moment. Her fair hair was dark with sweat.
Mittler was on the verge of raving, she could see...he kept mumbling to himself.

OOC: Is it too late to join? And if it isn't, could I get a quick summary of what's happened, please?

are these helo crews just airmen, or some troopers as well?

OOC: Both. Like I said earlier, I'm going to be extremely lenient in this thread, so don't be afraid to show initiative.

IC:
"Top Dog," or Harper, as he was better known, exhaled quietly, and continued to watch his men set up the sensory deprivation.

"Nothing," he responded in that strange language. "Tomorrow they'll talk. They can't take two days in this sun without water. Especially once I'm through with them."

He let his eyes sweep over the prison yards. It seemed that the prisoners in the north side were generally in better condition than those in the south. No matter. Soon the sun would start going down, and nature would provide her second phase of breaking and softening the prisoners.

"Anything in particular you'd like me to try?" he asked in low tones, fixing his sight on the southern prisoners once more.

OOC: Is it too late to join? And if it isn't, could I get a quick summary of what's happened, please?

OOC: You haven't missed much. I suggest reading over the previous posts to get a sense of what's happening, but as far as the story goes, here's a basic summary:
The squad was shot down early the previous evening in a desert area where no hostilities were previously known to exist. They were brought to this POW style camp, and half were sent into each half of the compound. No serious questioning yet, but they were left tied in the sun all day and denied water. And that should pretty much bring you up to speed.

IC:
Kenny looked down the line at her squad members. Anyone could see that the sun was taking its toll. A few slumped forward, possibly passed out. Others were beginning to shake from the beginnings of heat stroke. Some were mumbling incoherently.

"For god's sake, what the hell is wrong with you people?" she yelled at the group under the canopy. "Can't you see that you're killing them? What the hell are you trying to accomplish here?"

OOC: Slap me about the head a bit if this post upsets any plans you have...

IC:

A gruff voice came from one of the men lying on the sand. "Quiet down. It's no use shoutin' to them freaks. Just save your strength for when we get outta this."

The voice belonged a huge, heavily muscled and scarred man wearing a torn military jacket with the insignia of the Dregruk Elites on its shoulder.

Finally the man turned round, the cigarette in his right hand.

>>I think its time to scare them.<< a smile crossed his face >>Take one of them, but not the leader, and …have some fun. Make it loud. And let it last at least until tomorrow noon. The thirst and heat will have weakened their mental resistance when you show them your results. That’s all.<< the smile vanished.

>>You know, we may have not much time left. Sooner or later someone will come and look for them.<<

Yes, sooner or later, he thought and habitually scanned the horizon.

"They won't suspect anything yet, they have no reason to. And we're far enough away from the main flightlines that we won't be seen on preliminary searches."

Harper stared at the waiting captives hungrily, deciding on which one to single out. Kenny had been declared off-limits, but he'd find a way to make up for it.

"As always, I'll leave you with your thoughts. You know where to find me when you need me."

Smiling darkly, he turned and made his way back down the stairs. Passing through the small yard before entering the main building, he could see his two guards still patrolling the lines on the North side. Apparantly they were having trouble choosing. Perhaps this was for the better.

Kenny had been about to make a comment to her new Eilte friend when Top Dog stepped out into the South prison yard. If looks could pierce, he would have at least lost a hand as he retrieved his customary bottle of water before pacing among the squad once more.

"Man, it sure was hot out here today. I bet you're all glad the sun's passed it's zenith. The worst is over right?" he began conversationaly.

Stopping, he crouched before private Gobler. "Or do I need to prove a point?" He stared hard at her, evaluating. "This could all end if just one of you would speak up... Thank you for volunteering," he now addressed the medic beside her and moved to cut his bonds. Pulling him up by the shoulder, he escorted him towards the building, and passed him off to a guard. "Get this set up for me. I'll be in shortly."

The gray uniformed woman walked up and gave a salute to Harper. "Ah, Commander Benson reporting, the M-55's radar is back up. Nothing incomming at the moment...It will be a few more hours till we get the feeding mechanism unjammed. But I'm going to take her for a run out of the compound tonight...I would also like to know if one of your men took a stinger sytem out...because I'm missing one on the repair roster again." Her eyes were fairly cool about the whole buisness but...

Time to get the headphones out...

He returned the salute with a wry smile. "That didn't take long at all. Excellent work, Benson. Now as far as your wayward system is concerned, it's missing again? I haven't heard anything about it. Though with this lot, who could be sure... You might check with one of the engineering crew cheifs. Let me know if nothing turns up, and I'll send for a replacement. How soon do you need it?"

"Friggin' pansie.." Muttered the man. "I could kick his arse into next week if I wanted to." He stood up and skulked around before turning to Kenny. "Looks like we're on the same team here, so I guess introductions are in order. I'm Warchief Grimzag Deathjaw from Dregruk. My chopper got shot down not to long ago, and now I'm stuck here with you guys. And you would be...?"

She sniggered at his comment.

"MSgt. Kenny, Gaeltach, Coalition Forces. I'm senior in rank after our Blackhawks were shot down. Pilots and a fair amout of the squad were killed in the crash, and the rest of us were brought here. Any idea what they do over there in the north half?" she asked, concerned about the rest of her squad as well as the medic Top Dog had dragged off.

Grimzag could see she was concerned about something in the northern half of the camp.

"I have no idea. Every so often you hear a gunshot, but that's about it. You probably know as much as I do about this place."

He sat down next to her a murmured, "There's enough of us to take this place by force, you do know that? You're lads are too tired and dehydrated to fight just now, but we need to get them back into shape. You willing to fight or not?"

He returned the salute with a wry smile. "That didn't take long at all. Excellent work, Benson. Now as far as your wayward system is concerned, it's missing again? I haven't heard anything about it. Though with this lot, who could be sure... You might check with one of the engineering crew cheifs. Let me know if nothing turns up, and I'll send for a replacement. How soon do you need it?"

Your Engneering crew cheifs never left the 16th century... Was Benson's thought.

"It's one of the shoulder mounted SAM's your boys picked up somewhere. The ones with the corroded connections to the warhead detenator...That your engineering crew lost two men trying to clean the connections so they tossed the mess on us? I don't care where it wonders off to...but I damn sure hope the man who has it knows he's got a a dud for a warhead. And I'm not taking the blame for releasing a non working weapon. "

Although I doubt the concept goes very far with most of you boys...

"Remeber what happend with that Dregruk chopper at the Oasis?..It's just lucky they didn't see the M-55 when they flew over...SAMs that bounce off their targets get men killed..."

OOC: I hope you don't mind me calling the oppostion a bit technically challenged which would explain the 'advisors' presence.

If the southern prisoners thought the northern ones had it easier, they should've tried sitting in an actively-used latrine that spent all day baking, watched from a distance by some dozen scattered and heavily armed soldiers. The huge hispanic guy with the machine gun belt was snoozing in a lawn chair, machine gun still in lap. Somebody walked over and woke him up rudely. They bickered in whatever language this bunch spoke (wasn't Spanish). One of the prisoners snickered. Immediately, the bickering stopped. This other guy was short, very thin, and very hairy, such that the color of his skin was almost impossible to determine. He wore very faded American forest camo pants, an unknown desert camo jacket, and a misshapen and unidentifiable hat. He had no markings, and no equipment save for a knife and what looked like pockets stuffed with ammunition. Dangling from a shoulder strap was a Saiga automatic shotgun. In very rough English and a surprisingly high-pitched voice, he declared with a smile that "found we us plaything." MG Belts laughed and kept his machine gun on the group, and looked on as Hairy ambled over to the joker, almost turning back from the stench. He pulled out his shotgun, took a deep breath, and ran in, grabbed the joker, decided that he stank too bad to actually hold, and quickly ran out with him at gunpoint.

He escorted the poor, smelly guy to the building with an observation tower. Two men screaming was louder than one, and had a double chance of one of them still being alive the next day. They passed the APC, which upon closer inspection was more like a tent - a canopy was over it on both sides and the back, a radar unit 5 feet away was hooked up to something inside, junk was piled all over it, though a space was cleared out on top. It had been partly repainted, the Berëzan inverted blue star faded but still partly visible on its glacis plate. As they passed it, its open rear door emitted a loud bang, a large puff of opaquely sooty smoke, half of a monkey wrench, and loud cursing from Commander Benson, who apparently had decided to get the engine working again. From the looks of it, she was converting it into a radar tank. Laugher didn't feel like commenting this time.

...

"Cupcake 2 to base, we've flown over the preliminary flight path twice now, searched a 5km radius around their last known coords." There was a pause. "We found the wrecks, inspected them, but nothing significant. Looks like they took a couple of missiles as well as smallarms, but they're burned too badly to figure out what did it. There aren't any tracks, but there's been wind. We're going to run out of fuel soon, and there's nothing to be found for now. Over." Static. "Base to Cupcake 2, we copy. Return home. Maintain active radio contact in case these jokers try to take down another flight. Over and out." The Blackhawk turned to head home, radioing, "Cupcakes 1 and 3, we're going home. Follow suit. And dammit, Icing, get back in formation! Over!" The other two Blackhawks reformed. "Icing," a Berëzan-made Kamov Ka-52, crewed by a Coalition crew, replied with a laugh, "Sorry, Cupcake flight. Hard to fly this damn thing as slow as you." The silence at the other end was enough. "Ok, ok. It's just lots of fun to fly something other than one of those sluggish Blackhawks." With that, the stacked-rotor gunship flew by the helos at roughly double their top speed.

Meanwhile, the Captain made a mental note to not give that crew the gunship again. While he did that, he summoned McGuire to his office again, with orders to prepare another search team, this time with observation planes. Next came recon jets. After that, sattelites. And after that, letters home.

Yes, sooner or later, he thought and habitually scanned the horizon.

"They won't suspect anything yet, they have no reason to. And we're far enough away from the main flightlines that we won't be seen on preliminary searches."

Harper stared at the waiting captives hungrily, deciding on which one to single out. Kenny had been declared off-limits, but he'd find a way to make up for it.

"As always, I'll leave you with your thoughts. You know where to find me when you need me."

Smiling darkly, he turned and made his way back down the stairs. Passing through the small yard before entering the main building, he could see his two guards still patrolling the lines on the North side. Apparantly they were having trouble choosing. Perhaps this was for the better.


He turned round, stared out of the window again and took another drag from his cigarette. He was still nothing more than a huge and massive shadow in a dark room when he watched Harper crossing the yard and beeing stopped by a woman in a grey uniform. Benson if he remembered right.
Just another one of those... he interrupted himself. Not the right time for this. Maybe later.

His eyes wandered over the camp and the people inside, the prisoners and their guards, but espescially the prisoners. Which one would Harper choose? He was good at this, somekind of a genius of his own.
And it was always good to keep him buisy. And it was even better when this meant to let him play with one of those poor boys and girls down there.

One corner of his lips jerked and again he led the cigarette to his mouth and kept on staring out of the window.

OOC: I'm going to ask that you don't Rp the M-55 again Breza...just because these characters (and their equipment) are somewhat connected to other threads in my history...

Commander Benson was actually trying to get a clog out of the fuel line. Which was causing her problems. The M-55 actually wasn't an APC although most had long ago been converted to that use. It was an LAV-AD. Of course it had a somewhat limited radar...the more prominent auxilery unit was now hooked into the internal control panel.

Benson stood and looked up at the turret and the massive pile of parts. The long barrel 25mm chain gun was actually working as the top point of the tent. The box missle launcher was also elevated. "Jim put this stuff back in the right place. And do you know where fuzzy and the others are?"

"Water run..."
the first man said as he pried himself away from what said [/i]Hitchhiker's guide to Poon[/i]. He poped out of the gunner's hatch and looked at the spare parts he had been scattered about. He nodded and dropped the book on the ground.
"Ah what are we going to do about the paint..."

"You should have never painted that blooming star on there in the first place...camoflague my a**"

"Are we going to rejoin the rest of the unit..."

"Jeff...we are here not in that god forsaken fort on the coast protecting a damn refinery...we do as we get paid...?"

There's enough of us to take this place by force, you do know that? You're lads are too tired and dehydrated to fight just now, but we need to get them back into shape. You willing to fight or not?"

"Give them half a chance and a little dehydration wouldn't stop them. However, it's a bit hard to fight while we're tied to these blasted poles," she explained, jerking the plastic zip-ties on her wrists against the unyielding wood. "Speaking of which, what did you do to avoid this particular brand of subjugation?"

She glanced north again through beads of sweat dripping from the bill of her cover, and quietly voiced her concern. "Just how serious do you think these people are?"

-----

At the mention of the Dregruk incident, Harper glanced over to the big man, now talking with his favorite captive. Narrowing his eyes, he watched the two briefly, wondering what they were discussing. He would have to keep this in mind..everything was either a potential tool or an opportunity in his line of work.

Turning back to Benson, he tried his best to keep a straight face at her tone of voice. These advisors were so damn arrogant. But they were also essential, so he would endure it civily. "Well thank you for the heads-up. If I come across it, I'll be sure to take away their toy. No sense in keeping a weapon around that would do us more harm than good, right? I'll be around if you or your associate need anything else. Good afternoon to you both."

On his way back to the main building, he spotted two of the guards escorting one of the northern prisoners. Or rather smelled them. In that not-quite-familiar language, he barked a command which translated roughly to something about "the black-boxes." Entering the building, he allowed the door to slam behind him from a slight wind and stalked down the hallway to his waiting medic. His lip curled into a sneer at the prospect of his favorite past time. Oh, I love my job...

-----

McGuire hurried out of the Captain's office for the third time in as many hours. Distracted by this latest set of orders, he nearly missed the summons of a Senior Airman from the SIGINT office.

"Lt. McGuire!" came the call for the third time as the airman was forced out of the office to retrieve the LT.

McGuire stopped and turned, somewhat confused. He'd never met this man. "Yes?"

"Sir, you're with the S&R unit, correct?"

"That's correct, but I'm very busy at the moment so please come to the point."

"Sir, we've come across an interesting bit of information. It might be coincidental, but at the same time, it might help you. I know you need to get the next flight crews ready to go, but stop by before you leave tonight."

"Is it critical?"

"No, sir, nothing that requires your immediate attention. Nothing will have changed in the next few hours. Just make sure you stop by when you get a free minute."

"Alright then." What now? Everything here was such a production. So much drama. And it very rarely panned out to anything serious, so why stress too much? Just get the job done, and get these people picked up...if they are still alive. The thought chilled him, but he shrugged it off as nothing more than the dramatic effect this place had on one's psyche. Walking quickly, he wanted plenty of time to meet the returning craft on the helo pad.

On the tarmac of the Nellis coalition airbase, an AH-48 CSAR helicopter (basically a heavily armed and armored Chinook, sits in the hot sun, flanked by a pair Lynxes and a Gazelle. Not far away, a group of Land Rovers, Pinzgauer trucks, and other assorted wheeled vehicles from the LRRA 44th Uhlans Regimentwaits for deployment. There as part of the multi-national military exersize, they were to train for pilot rescue and deep raiding. So far, they have had little action.

However, rumor had it that a helicopter carrying coalition troops had crashed, and that it was downed by hostile fire.

The LRR force commander, Colonel Reginald Zimmerman, pedals his bicycle down the sand-swept runway and towards the base commander's office. He arrives outside and salutes the gaurds.

"I need to see the base commander."

If there is still room, I'd love to play an Chardonayan Ministery of Justice (Think KGB/GRU) agent who was present on the downed helicopter...

If there is still room, I'd love to play an Chardonayan Ministery of Justice (Think KGB/GRU) agent who was present on the downed helicopter...

OOC: If you're on the coalition side (at least superficially) I have no problem with it.

Colonel Stohry glanced up from his pile of paperwork, mildly surprized to see an MP at his door instead of the usual secretary. Calmly, he set down the pen and folded his hands.

"Can I help you?"

"Sir, Colonel Zimmerman from the LRRA 44th is here to see you."

"Please, send him in."

Well now this was unexpected. He stood behind his desk, prepared to meet the Colonel with an amiable smile as he entered. Across from the desk, Colonel Zimmerman would find a small plush couch in replacement of the usual (and often uncomfortable) chairs.

"A pleasure to meet you, sir. What brings you to my base?"

Colonel Stohry glanced up from his pile of paperwork, mildly surprized to see an MP at his door instead of the usual secretary. Calmly, he set down the pen and folded his hands.

"Can I help you?"

"Sir, Colonel Zimmerman from the LRRA 44th is here to see you."

"Please, send him in."

Well now this was unexpected. He stood behind his desk, prepared to meet the Colonel with an amiable smile as he entered. Across from the desk, Colonel Zimmerman would find a small plush couch in replacement of the usual (and often uncomfortable) chairs.

"A pleasure to meet you, sir. What brings you to my base?"

Colonel Zimmerman, wearing DPM desert fatigues, a red bandanna around his neck, and unshaven face, looks little different from any other LRR trooper. Sometimes, this appearance would work to the disadvantage of LRR officers.

"The pleasure is all mine. Seeing as we are both the same ranks, would it be better if we addressed by first names? But first, I have heard rumors that a helicopter has gone down in the desert. Some troops of mine have theorized that it is from ground fire, but I do not think that likely. We, er, the 44th Uhlans, my command, has a section of helicopters that you can use to find the downed helicopter. Also, you surely have noticed the line of Land Rovers parked down at the end of the runway there. You are also perfectly welcome to use those to search."

excelent

IC

This had been a really horrible day for Sub Lieutenent Alexi Lukin. First, there were his team-mates. Alexi wasn't a commando, he was a short, slender young man with sandy hair and brown eyes. He looked totally normal, for normal company, but didn't fit in well with the battle hardended commandos he was with. He had, as he had been ordered to do, presented himself to the team as a low level civilian intelligence agent.... which he was, but that was slightly misleading. He had been imidietly ostrisized from the group as an 'intel weenie'. He had no idea why he had even been assigned to this stupid treaining mission. Then there were the helicopters. Alexi didn't like helicopters under the best of circomstances... they made him sick. Helicopters, when they got shot down were even worse. And if there was one think Alexi hated more than anything it was the heat. He had grown up in a rainforest, but had fallen in love with Chardonay's sub arctic weather.

Of course, you couldn't tell this from looking at him. He looked like just another grunt, sweating quietly in a corner. A little thing like being taken prisoner by an organization he didn't know wasn't going to make him blow his cover, despite the lack of water. With the world swimming before his eyes, he turned to Kenny and muttered, "At least it's a dry heat," and fainted dead away.

As late afternoon settled on the compound a halftrack could be heard rolling up towards a sentry point. It was old, likely WWII vintage with a machine gun mounted above a hatch in the cab. The bed of the truck was covered by a tarplin and it was pulling a large gray water tank. The whole group was covered in so much dust that one wondered what the orginal color had been.

A man who looked like a red hairball poped out of the top of the hatch and signaled with a bright flashlight.

Echo

The sentry shouted in an unknown lanquage and a man in a nearby bunker flipped on his saftey. The sentry waved the man into the area and the truck bumped into the compound.

The red haired man jumped out of the truck and looked at the squad. "They stuck more of the blighters in here? Yes" His accent seemed slavic. He was dressed in a teeshirt and cargo pants. The wiry frame seemed to be too thin for the old pair of boots on his legs.

"Fuzzy, I assume you got water..." Benson called from under the tent.

"Yes, and more...Who wants...Fago, Rock and Rye...I found man willing to trade five whole cases..."

"For what?"

"I not put lead into him...No, I make joke...that idiotic rifle that jammed all the time...the one with the bent bolt..."

"Ah, well carry on."

Colonel Zimmerman, wearing DPM desert fatigues, a red bandanna around his neck, and unshaven face, looks little different from any other LRR trooper. Sometimes, this appearance would work to the disadvantage of LRR officers.

"The pleasure is all mine. Seeing as we are both the same ranks, would it be better if we addressed by first names? But first, I have heard rumors that a helicopter has gone down in the desert. Some troops of mine have theorized that it is from ground fire, but I do not think that likely. We, er, the 44th Uhlans, my command, has a section of helicopters that you can use to find the downed helicopter. Also, you surely have noticed the line of Land Rovers parked down at the end of the runway there. You are also perfectly welcome to use those to search."

"Yes, they had not escaped my attention. And please, call me James."

The secretary appeared in the doorway with a pot of coffee and a cup for each of them. He handed each officer a cup and set the pot on an end table before leaving and closing the office door behind himself.

"Now. As for this missing team. Quite the little mystery, no? At the moment, we do not suspect foul play. For now, I would like to hope for the best and to continue running observation craft over the area and flight path. The squad is trained for survival, so they might be trying to make their way back." He paused breifly to sip the coffee. "Thank you for your generosity. I understand your troops are training for downed pilot recoveries? This might be a good time for them to try out their skills. I formally invite you to join in the seach effort, if you so desire."

Colonel Zimmerman, wearing DPM desert fatigues, a red bandanna around his neck, and unshaven face, looks little different from any other LRR trooper. Sometimes, this appearance would work to the disadvantage of LRR officers.

"The pleasure is all mine. Seeing as we are both the same ranks, would it be better if we addressed by first names? But first, I have heard rumors that a helicopter has gone down in the desert. Some troops of mine have theorized that it is from ground fire, but I do not think that likely. We, er, the 44th Uhlans, my command, has a section of helicopters that you can use to find the downed helicopter. Also, you surely have noticed the line of Land Rovers parked down at the end of the runway there. You are also perfectly welcome to use those to search."

"Yes, they had not escaped my attention. And please, call me James."

The secretary appeared in the doorway with a pot of coffee and a cup for each of them. He handed each officer a cup and set the pot on an end table before leaving and closing the office door behind himself.

"Now. As for this missing team. Quite the little mystery, no? At the moment, we do not suspect foul play. For now, I would like to hope for the best and to continue running observation craft over the area and flight path. The squad is trained for survival, so they might be trying to make their way back." He paused breifly to sip the coffee. "Thank you for your generosity. I understand your troops are training for downed pilot recoveries? This might be a good time for them to try out their skills. I formally invite you to join in the seach effort, if you so desire."

"And call me Reginald, or Reg for short. Yes, the 44th is training in downed pilot recovery, thank you for the invitation to join in the search effort. Its been very nice meeting you, James, I must inform the pilots of this new assignment. See you later."

With that, Colonel Zimmerman turns and heads out the door, saluting to the gaurds on the way out. He re-boards his bike, and pedals back to the helicopters.

"Ok, boys! We've got us an assignment. We're to run search patterns for the downed helicopter. Get your squads en route as fast as possible."

The congregation of officers breaks up, and they run back to their units. Uhlans troopers (a cross between SAS and Marines) board their vehicles, and engines can be heard starting up, but not from very far away due to the quietness of the L&F Hybrid systems in use. The DPM'd Uhlans begin to roll out of the airbase and into the surrounding desert. Motorcycle outriders accompany the columns over the sands.

Meanwhile, the helicopters wind up their engines. Helicopter-borne Uhlans troopers hang their legs out of the open doors of the mostly vacant troop compartments.

"This is SAR flight alpha, requesting take off clearance."

http://www.janes.com/defence/air_forces/gallery/post_iraq/images/dsc_3173.jpg

The two LRRAF CSAR contingent Lynxes. (Sea kings or Griffons are normally used as medium/light transports, but Lynxes are used as CSAR craft because they are more of a blend of the two, and are very fast.)

Dammit.. Kenny swore under her breath as the intel guy passed out. This situation made her furious, and it took constant effort to keep herself calm and collected.

Hearing the approaching vehicle, she glanced up and watched Benson converse with with a thin young man with the brightest tuft of red hair she'd seen in some time. She felt a little better now that the heat wasn't so intense, though her muscles were sore from heat exhaustion. The slight breeze cooled her sweat soaked body, and she doubted that anything could feel better. Glancing around, the others seemed greatful for the breeze as well. They were all overheated, and relief was welcome.

Alexi awoke to the frech breeze and the burning in his throat. He tried to catch the eye of one of the guards. "Water water" he croaked" I'll talk"

ooc note, he knows nothing. he's just thirsty.

Kenny twisted her body around the pole to reach back and kick him.

"Shut up, you wanna end up dead? Now suck it up and keep your mouth shut. I'm not going to let you die of thirst, so trust me."

The halftrack contained two other men. They were more the thugish type and looked like the others from the camp. However, they seemed to follow the red haired one around. And actually gave somewhat half harted salutes to Benson.

Fuzzy heard the man complaining and walked over. Listening to the Sargent Major he laughed. "Oh, you get them through...how? You tied up like ox for slaughter. No, man die of thirst easy...some sweat faster than others. This one...I say he die first, he sweat like pig in oven. We speed process up yes? Tonight when we go out, we take him for a jog...He gets to run up and down the dunes behind us...Fun yes?"

Kenny simply glared at them, refusing to speak. But if they stepped so much as another foot forward, they'd be within boot range and she would love to demonstrate for them a piece of her mind.

Alexi stared impassively at the red haired man, and stopped squirming instantly. Calm down he told himself What do they wat to know from you? If they wanted you dead, tehy'd have killed you already. There's something they need.

"But why bother killing us that way? Why not simply shoot me now? Faster for me, and less people for you to guard. But ah... you need information from us. I can guaruntee you that you won't learn anything unless we get water. I can barely speak as is."

Listening to him, Kenny closed her eyes and leaned back against the pole.

Idiot...shut up.

Fuzzy laughs..."Because I have no cable...so I get enjoyment out pulling you through burning hot sands. And I'm not guarding you. I drive armored vehicle, they guard you. However, if you want water. I will let you work for water. How does that sound?"

Alexi saw kenny's movment against the pole, and continued, parched lips curving into a cracked and bleeding smile.

"Of course, you know all this already. But this torture doesn't seem to be paying dividends. What woudl you lose by giving us water and explaining clearly what you want? Cause I guaruntee., I don't know about these fellows, but I have maybe 12 hours before I go comatose, and maybe another 6 before I die. After that... it's over. You've lost whatever I might be able to give you."

He collapsed against the pole exhausted.

Alexi perked up a bit, "What do you need me to do?"
HE drives an armored vehicle. Armored means armed, likely. I wonder if I could get close enough to try something....

Kenny glanced back over her shoulder at the intel guy.

Please don't do anything stupid. I'll be the one paying for your mistakes despite what you might think. And they're not above killing you...

"Need I remind you about your Oaths of enlistment," she growled at him through closed teeth.

The red haired man smiles. "Ah, see your quite intelligent. You know that here water is money. And you like me, work for money. Simple work for you. Now you take my offer?"

Alexi turned to Kenny. "Oath of enlistment. OAHT OF ENLISTMENT. I was promised a post in a temperate city, not in the middle of the bloody desert. I'm a CLERK, not some dumb grunt."

To Fuzzy: "What kind of work will I be doing?"

Fuzzy looks at him..."Yes or no, I can offer it to all these poor fellows to. So what be your choice?"

Alexi looked startled, then enlightened. "OH., I see. No, the reason I was wondering is that I am currently... not very capable of physical labor, and wanted to know if I'd need to do hard labor. It's not that I don't want to take the job. i do. but I don't want you to be disapointed if I can't pick up a 100 pound fuel tank."

"If you can't work, well then...you don't drink. No worse then you are now right?" By now Benson is walking over with a concerned look on her face.

Kenny sighed and shook her head. Glancing around, she felt better about the caliber of people in the squad, as it didn't appear as if anyone else was biting. They were all exhausted and dehydrated, but they were still a team.

"Alright. I'll do it. What do you want from me?"

Benson now was standing there. "Fuzzy what are you up to?"

"Ah, Commander I have somone work on cleaning out the old cistern..."

She raised an eyebrow..."Just don't let the locals get pissed off about it."

"Yes Mam.."

He waved over one of the men under the tent, a massive man carrying a submachine gun. "Now we go for a walk." He untied the Intelligence officer from his post and pushed him forward. The Alexi's arms were still tied together behind his back.

The man with the submachinge gun stayed a distance away from Alexi.

Alexi stumbled and fell. "I need water before I work I'm in no condition to clean it now."

"You work before you get water..."

Alexi was dragged down to the other end of the enclosure. It appeared that Fuzzy was fairly strong for his wiry frame. Here the wall was actually formed by several barral arches cross connected. They were open to the enclosure and closed off by a thick brick wall with windows at the other side. A few garuds milled around on the terrace the 'cassions' formed.

In one corner was a large wooden lid over a circle of bricks eight feet in diameter. Someone had mounted a tressle over it, with a rope and pully system.

Fuzzy pushed Alexi towards the cistern as he undid the bonds. The man with the submachine gun sat down in the shade at a rickty old table.

Fuzzy kicked the cover off the cistern and the smell of rotton death exploded into the air. Fuzzy covered his mouth and pointed "You get rid of bodies and water in there. Bodies go on that old wagon...water you pick up with pail. If you want water, you can drink that. Fresh when you finish..."

Inside the cistern was about four feet of water and a five bodies in faded Coalition uniforms.

Alexi turned and vomited, barely missing Fuzzy's shoes. "Oh god," He moaned, as he climbed into teh cictern Once incide, he began stripping the bodies. He dipped one of the shirts in the water, and wrapped it around his head, as he went through all the pockets, making it look like he was simplty organizing the clothes (ooc, what does he find?) After caching his findings in his pockets, he tossed the clothes out and began wreastling the bodies out of the cictern.

ooc before you say you catch hi hiding stuff, remember he's not actually a clerk. He;'s a feild agent preteniding to be a clerk.

OOC: I'd say matches, a rusty fork...a melted deck of playing cards. The bodies would have been searched before being dumped. He might find a wallet and ID tags that got missed.

As Alexi worked in the very much cooler, although god awful stench of the cistern. Fuzzy sat down in the shade of one of the vaults on a barrel and called out..."Hey, do not molest die dead, you may have to meet them in the afterlife."

edit: Understood. However, Fuzzy has been around the block a few times himself.

"Ipm not molesting them" Alexi grunted. "THeir clothes are soking wet, and rather heavy." He tosses them over and they splat outside, but he hides several soking shirts inside his jeacket. He also glances at a dogtage, memorizing the name, rank, and unit of the soldier. Swearoing under his breath, alexi pushed the first body out of the cictern, and it rolled onto the ground. Wheezing from the stench, he started on the others.

The two men above laughed. They were now sitting together at the old table and playing cards. Well if you count that they were both sitting at the table sideways and watching bodies appear out of the cistern.

Ubay wanted to put his gun down behind his chair, but Fuzzy shock his head no. He just pointed down at his lap. Ubay understood, The gun sat in his lap ready to go. Fuzzy was playing one handed. His other hand was wrapped around his .45.

"God that was nasty," said Alexi as he climbed out of the cictern and grabbed the first body by the armpits. "I don't suppose you'd want to help." he looked at them. "I guess I was right" he muttered, and dragged the body off towards the wagon.

"Hey, no wandering over to the truck, put those bodies on that wagon." Fuzzy called out. Motioning to the old wood and iron construct with four iron rimmed wagon wheels. and a trailer hitch welded on at some point in early history.

"right right, sorry. Where's the water and the pail?

Grimzag had watched the whole event without paying much attention to it. He was already hatching a plan.

"Psst! Kenny!" He whispered, getting her attention. "I'm gonna punch one of the guards that comes through. Hopefully they'll take me to wherever that medic friend of yours is, maybe even the northern camp. I'll try and find out what I can. Okay?"

OOC:i would gladly join but can someone summarize the story for me please

"right right, sorry. Where's the water and the pail?

"The pail is at the bottom of the cistern...take the water out of the cistern over to that drain hole in the wall." Fuzzy's eyes seemed to narrow...

"Alright. A moment." He finished dragging the last body to the wagon, and leaned againts it for a moment. panting. Then he stagered up and walked, weving, back to the cistern. He fumpled around in the cistern until he found the bucket, filled it, and stumbled back outtowards the hole, splilling much of the water on the way.

OOC:i would gladly join but can someone summarize the story for me please

TM.

IC:
"I appreciate it, but I'm not so certain it would work...He looked like he was about at his breaking point. That big bastard surely noticed and will use it to his absolute advantage. I don't think he's anywhere good."

She watched Grimzag for a moment before returning her sharp gaze in the direction of the cistern.

"Wish me luck..." He muttered, before standing up and shouting, "HEY! WOOSE! I'm ready to have a talk with you now."

OOC: I'll leave it to someone else to RP what the guard's will do...

"Alright. A moment." He finished dragging the last body to the wagon, and leaned againts it for a moment. panting. Then he stagered up and walked, weving, back to the cistern. He fumpled around in the cistern until he found the bucket, filled it, and stumbled back outtowards the hole, splilling much of the water on the way.

Fuzzy looked at the man and shook his head. "Now why don't you get the other four bodies out of there before you take the water out?"

Benson was now looking at a clipboard and checking a list as the other two men of her team rerigged the canopy so it wouldn't be resting on the M-55's chain gun.

"Hey, take a seat, you'll get talked to when someone is ready to talk to you. Now shut up or I'll show you a hell of a good time..."

OOC: I'm assuming you were talking to my character with the "Take a seat".

IC:

Grimzag stayed on his feet and folded his arms. "Listen, you moron, I've got some valuable information that I think you'll be really... knocked out by. Now are you gonna listen to me?"

OOC: I'm assuming you were talking to my character with the "Take a seat".

IC:

Grimzag stayed on his feet and folded his arms. "Listen, you moron, I've got some valuable information that I think you'll be really... knocked out by. Now are you gonna listen to me?"

((Sent you a TG about being the bad guy in this promising thread.))

((I see my request wasn't even worth a reply...))

"Because teh bloody bodies are heavy and I need a bit of a break. And water. I've got most of it doen, so give me water.

((Sent you a TG about being the bad guy in this promising thread.))

((I see my request wasn't even worth a reply...))

I never got anything from you... :?

((Hmm...did you get something from a nation called Aurora Prima? I might have accidentally been logged in as a puppet.))

((Hmm...did you get something from a nation called Aurora Prima? I might have accidentally been logged in as a puppet.))

Yeah, I just TMed you about it.

Benson's eyes dont leave her check list
"Unless your prepaired to give me the IFF codes for coalition forces...I'd say I don't give a flying whoop what you have to say, Warleader...I'm going to be patient with you...sit down and shut up or your going to be wishing you had." The man in the other gray uniform is now on the other side of the LAV. A faint click can be heard...

***
Fuzzy looked at Alexi, "You have plenty of water to drink...It's a bit red and smell, but it's cool? yes?...so you want water, drink that...Fresh water when done." He puts down a card and the other man swears...

Alexi muttered and continued carrying water.

Fuzzy just shrugged and watched.

Harper crossed the prisonyard once more. The medic needed a little more time to recover before he would become useful. Hearing voices near the cistern, he changed course to wander that way, and scowled seeing the two men playing cards. Clenching his fists, he was ready to tear into these two when he spotted one of the coalition men climbing out of the cistern with a bucket of dirty water. From the body language of the group, it wasn't hard to put two and two together to figure out what was happening. Smirking in approval, he turned away and sought out Benson.

Benson was smiling at her checklist. The M-55 wasn't a great unit, but hell it would light up a few helio's. She really didn't care too much for the asignment but hell, life as a Merc was better than having your head removed for murder.

God, how long has it been? Twelve...no sixteen years...sixteen years since I got thrown in the Milita Mercenary Units...Of course we were then sent into a fairly nasty civil war...vanished from the radar...well I could have been born in a country that actually has prisons...

Antonov took the last drag from his cigarette and followed the smoke with his eyes.
Then he let the rest of the cigarette fall to the ground, a small shower of red lights flew through the air when it hit the ground, then the last light the cigarette had spent vanished.

He turned his eyes back onto the camp.
One of the prisoners was cleaning up the cistern. Maybe not the best way to get the informations they wanted, but it kept his own men buisy.
What was that? One of the prisoners seemed to be out for trouble. Antonov narrowed his eyes and identified this man as the dregrukian (?) Warchief they had captured earlier than the coalition guys.
What does he want? He doesn’t look like one who gives up that early. then he shruged If I’m wrong, good for us. Maybe we’ll get a bit of information from him. If I’m right, bad for him. Harper will have his fun with someone like him.

Antonov smiled slightly and took another cigarette out of the box in his pocket.

Alexi collapsed on the sand. "THere. The bodies are gone, the cistern is emptied."

Colonel Zimmerman rides in one of the Lynxes. The Gazelle follows close behind the Lynx, armed with an AA-11 and a quartet of ATGMs. In the front cockpit, the pilot spots something.

"Hey, what's that over there?"

They spot what looks like a cluster of rocks in the distance. They head for it.

"What the...we're getting RWR activity!"
"Take it low and fast. Tell everybody else we mighta found something!"

The Lynx and gazelle dive down towards the desert floor, and duck behind the nearest cover. They both expose the sensors appendage atop their rotorheads. They are very much enlightened at the camp....

Fuzzy looked down at the man and smiled..."Ah now you get fresh water...Hold out your wrists together...."

OOC: I'm not sure if that isn't a bit fast LLR...but

"Commander, we got something on the screen...for a second...then disappeared."

Benson turned and waved at observation tower..."Hey notice anything about 20 klicks north northwest...

Alexi held out his arms and tensed, fully expecting Fuzzy to slash is wrists. If Fuzzy came out with a knife, he'd try to kick it away and slam the fork int o fuzzy's stomach.

Fuzzy put on a pair of large plastic twist tie cuffs. They were marginally more comfortable then the ropes but also harder to get off.

He pointed at an empty vault amost 12 feet in height and said. "Go take a seat...I'll go get your water." Fuzzy walked off towards the M-22 and the water supply.

The man with the machine gun waved Alexi over to the far stone wall of the open vault and gave a sneer.

As Fuzzy approached Benson she just said "No..."

"Commander...You know I need some..."

"Not now...I've just had a contact...water is all...understand?"

Fuzzy grabbed a 100ml plastic bottle of water and started to return to the cassion that Alexi was now sitting in.

ooc, sorry, last one was from a puppet.

Alrxi looked up at Fuzzy and smiled greatfully, then glanced at his hands curiously. "How'd this going to work?"

The helicopter crews were thoroughly puzzled about the purpose of the camp. They could not decide wether it was part of the exersize or something sinister.

"This is Patrol flight alpha calling Nellis, do you know of any bases <insert position here>?"

4 Uhlans troopers jump down from the Lynx. Two carry among them a .50 anti-materiel rifle, the other two are equipped with basic kit. The two former Uhlans troopers make their way down from the rocky hill and approach the camp.

OOC: LLR it is more of a 'compound' than a 'camp' Has walls, buildings etc. And several bunkers with machinge guns hidden in the sand...

OOC: LLR it is more of a 'compound' than a 'camp' Has walls, buildings etc. And several bunkers with machinge guns hidden in the sand...

OCC: Compound, then.

OOC: Just a bit quick there with the S&R efforts..

Harper scowled in growing anger. He'd seen the troopers approaching. Gruffly, he barked commands to a few of the nearby guards, one of whom promptly ran off yelling to the northern section.

"Benson!" he growled. "Anyone who saw this place does not leave. Alive or dead. Is that clear?"

There was no time to get the prisoners out of sight, so he sprinted to the observation tower with an M-4 in hand, cursing in that other language.

OOC: Gotta join this. Read the whole thing, I know what's going on. I'll rp someone who's been here for a while.

Daniel Rykes was sitting out in the sun. He was chained to a pole, and had been for 5 days. He had been given a little water, just to keep him alive. He was a special forces soldier from outside of this war, sent in to pick up intell on this particular side. He had followed clues out here, but was caught.

Dan laughed, partially from the growing delirium. "You call this heat? I trained in hotter than this."

He was already beaten and bloody, and had a number of knife slashes from the man who had introduced himself as Harper. They had bandaged him up, and kept him in a cell for a week. After that, they brought him out and tied him to this pole. The chains were hot, and burned his skin. He had struggled the first day, the chains cutting through his clothes and skin, but decided it was not in his best interests to pertain.

A soldier rushed by, and Dan gave him a glance. There was something happening outside of the walls. Might be some gunfire soon.

Benson turns and screams..."Fuzzy, get your ass over here NOW!. Ubay get on the halftrack..." Ubay steps forward and ties Alexi's hands to a ring on the wall...He has his submachine gun muzzle in Alexi's mouth.

Fuzzy just tosses the bottle of water on the ground. A few moments later, the M-55 is backing into one of the 'cassions, hiding itself, the radar is still operating but using a somewhat old and faulty CRT screen. They begin loading the radar onto the half track.

Benson is now up on the old wall, laying flat behind a broken parpet. In her hand is an infantry support gun with a telescopic lens. She looks at the movement across the dunes...

"Damn, those boys didn't come from out of the blue. There has to be a few helio's out there...but any gun ships?

She orders the local, in halting lanquage to get a handheld stinger up into postion and nail any incomming enemy craft.

OOC: The radar sig would have gone a bit weird changing power sources...but it should appear as though the radar unit is being carried by a halftrack if they fly over the walls.

"God dammit..." Muttered Grimzag under his breath. His plan wasn't working at all. He had to cause some trouble. Enough to upset the entire compound enough for the people he was imprisoned with to start an uprising. But how?

He looked around him and spied a few scattered stones. He picked one up and weighed it up mentally. It would hurt if you were hit by it, he finally concluded. He drew back his arm and lobbed it at the figures lying on the parpet.

Antonov cursed. Where did those guys come from that fast? What ever would happen now, one was for sure: they were compromised.

He looked down on the compound and nodded. At least his men and women did the right. Then he frowned. The dregrukian Warchief had taken up something from the ground and now...

>>Damn idiot!<< Antonov scowled. Then he spotted Harper running to his tower. >>Harper!<< he yelled in the strange language and pointed at Grimzag. >>Knock this bastard out!<<

Then he took his own gun, an AKM, out of the corner where it had been leaning against the wall and left the tower.
This was the first time any of the prisoners could see more of him than a dark figure in a dark room. He wasn’t very tall, about 177 cm, but seemed to be nearly as wide as high though he didn’t carry one gram of fat too much with him.
He wore an old and worn out yellow-brown army suit, his short black hair were uncovered.
His hard traits and, especially, his cold grey-blue eyes told everybody better not to be in his way when he wanted something.

Grimzag was satisfied to see his rock hit something. Better still, a guard was running towards. It was time to do what he did best, he thought gleefully as he cracked his knuckles.

"Come on then, if you think you're hard enough..." He growled.

Ubay was sitting in the front seat of the half track. Seeing the rock being thrown he just stood up, picked up his submachine gun and stopped.

He bent back over and pulled up a larger, Stern gun. He smiled, this one made little noise as it was a surpressed weapon. He grinned evily at the Warcheif and pulled back on the bolt, chambering the first round.

With a voluminous crimson splatter and a rather loud bang, the Warchief's head disappeared a couple of seconds before his body collapsed on the ground. Hairy (from before), having washed the stench of the latrine and its jester from his uniform, stepped forward slowly to the halftrack, his Saiga's barrel smoking, his face scowling as he knew the value of keeping the prisoners alive.

>>Ubay, get Harper. Tell him to start making noise with his two playthings. That'll teach this bunch some much-needed respect. And just tell me how the hell he was walking around unchained?!<<

Hairy debated either helping fend off the attack from outside, or keeping watch over the prisoners. He ran around the southern prisoner area, making sure that everybody was securely tied, and then decided that since the walls were being defended, he might as well guard the prisoner compound. He ran off as if heading outside, and snuck back to hide in the APC (ooc alcona: this'll be a separate vehicle from the halftrack and the M55/LAV/whatever), giving him a decent view of the compound, and an excellent hiding spot. The low-slung vehicle's side machine guns were stripped, but the Sokolov 13mm on the roof was still in place with ammo. He'd heard of its legendary psychological effect (much like the RL MG42), and hoped that it'd be enough to take care of anybody who tried to free the southern group.

ooc: LRR, i was planning on doing the rescue. think we could work something out, like either doing a second one together after this fails, or me joining this one with reinforcements, or something similar?

OOC: Works fine there is refrence to APC's by Galtech in the first post... :wink: So as for motorized equipment we have an M-55 (similar to an LAV-AD), A halftrack with a radar sitting in it's bed, and a semi-working APC of Bereza origin?

Ubay looks over and replies >>Harper is on the wall someplace. And Benson wants me to keep the halftrack ready to move. I'll tell Thor...And he was untied while I was getting water from the oasis...why I have no clue...<<

Ubay was looking at the situation. He pulled a few gray curved objects from a bag and placed them to cover the southern prisoners. He started to hook the claymore mines to a small handheld trigger and a long length of cable.

OOC: Did you just kill my character?! I need to make a note of this, what with it being

a) The biggest GODMOD I've seen in a long while
b) You killed my main character for RPing, alongside the fact that he's the military head of my nation and... oh I can't be bothered to argue. Just change the post. :roll:

OOC: First, in trying to work this out I want to make a few points...
a) You are right, saying his head exploded was a god mod. However shooting him is not

b)What kind of fool places his main Rp character (and military head to boot) into standing around throwing stones with armed men? What did you expect to happen. Us to surrender or something???

Either Ubay or Haris was going to put some rounds into him and leave him for dead. And I'd like to see how the 'Warcheif' was going to survive having several rounds of 9mm and 7.65 mm gun fire thrown into him without it being complete Godmod...

*Shakes his head...* foolish just foolish...

OOC: *Laughs* You haven't seen one of Grimzag's RPs, have you? I'll let you in on a little secrets: He nearly always is getting captured, tortured and so on. Secondly, he gets shot all the time. It's one of the main points in my RPs. It's not a Grimzag RP if he isn't shot or captured. So don't worry about my mental health in putting my main character into a very dangerous situation, people get paid good money for that. I'll just do what I do best; completely ignore the general boundaries of human resilience and churn out cliche after cliche. It's what I do best.

Anyway, sermon over!

OOC: Ok, stop bickering. Since I have RPed with both Alcona and with Dregruk before, I know and respect both parties involved. More specifically, I've RPed with Grimzag before, so just to give everyone an out and to make everyone mostly happy, I officially determine that while he was shot, the wounds will be non-fatal. It doesn't have to make sense, but for the cohesion and continuation of this thread, please don't argue. But Dregruk, at least make sure you take hits.

IC:
Hearing Antonov yell, Harper spun quickly to deal with Grimzag. Irritated by this outburst, he yelled for the soldiers around him to cover the warcheif and the other prisoners in particular. There would be no more outbursts.

"If they try anything, they die!" he shouted in English to be sure everyone understood the implications.

Moving quickly, he decided on some leverage in the potential coming fight. He suspected that the incoming troopers were from some search effort or another, and as such would hesitate to fire on the base if their allies were in here. ...and what better leverage than a woman? he thought as his gaze fell on Kenny. It was really a coincidence that happened to suit his needs. As he neared, she kicked up at him, catching the big man square in the stomach. Growling, he punched her across the face and fought to catch his breath as he cut the bonds. Quickly, he wrestled her to the ground and managed to get the stronger plastic zip-ties on her wrists before she could scramble away from him.

Lifting her by the back of the shirt, he half-dragged her along as he sprinted towards the observation tower once more. Wrestling her up the stairs wasn't the easiest task he'd ever faced, but nonetheless it was accomplished. He tossed her across the small room and she skidded to a stop against the wall. She kicked at him again when he approached, but this time he was ready and caught her ankle. Slinging his M-4 over his shoulder, he snatched up her other leg, and was somehow able to bound her ankles with more of the zip-ties. Amidst feral sounds of struggle and protest, he jerked her onto her stomach and placed one foot on the small of her back to kneel in a sniper's position.

"Stop moving, you'll make me miss my shot. Besides, your role in this little game will come soon enough."

Grinning, he trained his sights on the closer of the men running down the dunes, and clicked off the safety.

-----

The radio-room at Nellis buzzed with it's normal activity, but one particular set of traffic stood out from the rest. Perhaps because it was mostly static.

"Was that the LRR team?" questioned one of the Corporals.

His partner shrugged, but keyed the mic and tried again to make contact. "Unit with traffic, please repeat, you were broken."

OCC: This isn't the rescue. It will be the rescue when These Guys (http://www.operations.mod.uk/telic/images/sea/wmik_ranges.jpg) get there, along with mabye 1 or 2 cannon-armed wheeled APCs.

IC:

The two Uhlans troopers loose their nerve and drop to the desert floor.

"What is that place?"

Meanwhile, the two troopers on the cliff watch with a much better view than those now taking cover on the desert floor.

"Gus, somebody's in that watch tower. That's a real gun, and that guy's not anyone's troop. He's aming at the two privates."
"Sorry to do this, pal."

Gus, a Sergeant, sets the sights of his big Barett rifle on the man in the watch tower. He clicks the safety off, and pulls the trigger. Unfotunately, the big anti-material rife was anything but silenced...

The helicopter crews, currently flying to contact the nearest Uhlans convoy, recieve the Nellis transmission.

"Copy that, Nellis. Do you know of a walled compound at <insert location here>?"

The small gazelle sights a small section of Land Rovers led by a John Henry III 6x6 (a light vehicle meant for patrolling, different from the better armored JH IV, a combat APC capable of taking lots of fire, but still well armored.)

"Red column, this is Patrol Alpha. We've spotted a compound at <insert position here> and need a land element."
"Roger that, Alpha. We are en route."

The vehicles start on the trip, estimated to take around 1 1/2 hours.

The blast of the anti-material rifle drew Benson's attention. "Well, it looks like we have a sniper on the bluff to the south....Alright, Enjoy this..."

she fired five rounds from the infantry support gun (cross between a long range rifle and a machine gun RL) at the men on the bluff using her telescopic sight and then rolled several feet down the parpet to the corner of the compound.

The local looked up at what she had just shot at from behind a pile of sandbags.

The blast of the anti-material rifle drew Benson's attention. "Well, it looks like we have a sniper on the bluff to the south....Alright, Enjoy this..."

she fired five rounds from the infantry support gun (cross between a long range rifle and a machine gun RL) at the men on the bluff and then rolled several feet down the parpet to the corner.

The local looked up at what she had just shot at...

The bullets impact to the side and front of the sniper team. They crawl away, and throw a grenade to their right to distract the occupants of the compound. Meanwhile, the two troops on the desert floor observe the happenings.

"Calling all friendly forces, this is Patrol Alpha. We have a firefight at <insert position here>. Requesting support, over."

OOC: I edited my first post so that I moved Dan closer to the other prisoners.

Dan watched as a soldier shot a prisoner. Dan knew that nothing critical was hit, but he was shot nonetheless.

Then Harper came down and grabbed who Dan assumed to be the ranking officer of some of the newer prisoners. He drug her up to a tower, and Dan lost sight of them.

Hopefully someones going to bust us out of here.

Harper swore viciously hearing the loud crack of a rifle, and opened fire on the approaching men. However his weapon silenced and he swore more violently as a bullet tore past his shoulder (inflicting quite a bit of damage for not actually hitting) not more than a second after the shot sounded. Recovering, he realized the bullet probably would have killed him if Kenny hadn't been wriggling and throwing off his position so much.

Grabbing her by the back of the neck, he yanked her to a standing position and stood behind her with the muzzle of his weapon beneath her jaw. From this position, her Coalition uniform should be clearly visible. Over his shoulder, he yelled in that strange language for the armed men not watching prisoners to open fire.

Benson turned and looked...they had tried to distract with a granade but it was a bit far...and she wasn't new to the dance.

"Alright...
<<You there, throw a few granades at that ridge and maybe we can lose those two boys hiding in the sand. I want the machine gun teams out to the bunkers Now...

Ubay, what the hell...Ah screw it...Drive the half track out the door and to the glasis wall...put some cover fire on that bluff...Now!>>

four three man teams in white ran to the gate, each had an RPG and a few extra rounds and waited for the Half Track to move forward, out the gate...the followed past as the truck stopped behind the sandbag wall. Ubay got into the gun ring and peppered the bluff with 13mm fire. One intreped soul threw a hand grenade at the privates behind the near dune.

OOC: Glasis: in most 16th-early 20th century forts a rising slope of land piled up to add protection to a fort. Usually the fort side would have some sort of wall creating a space between the fort walls and the glasis.

Benson turned and looked...they had tried to distract with a granade but it was a bit far...and she wasn't new to the dance.

"Alright...
<<You there, throw a few granades at that ridge and maybe we can lose those two boys hiding in the sand. I want the machine gun teams out to the bunkers Now...

Ubay, what the hell...Ah screw it...Drive the half track out the door and to the glasis wall...put some cover fire on that bluff...Now!>>

four three man teams in white ran to the gate, each had an RPG and a few extra rounds and waited for the Half Track to move forward, out the gate...the followed past as the truck stopped behind the sandbag wall. Ubay got into the gun ring and peppered the bluff with 13mm fire. One intreped soul threw a hand grenade at the privates behind the near dune.

OOC: Glasis: in most 16th-early 20th century forts a rising slope of land piled up to add protection to a fort. Usually the fort side would have some sort of wall creating a space between the fort walls and the glasis.

The grenade badly wounds the two privates, but the sniper team is long gone. They find cover where they are out of sight, and wait for reinforcments.

Soon, a Lynx appears in the distance. The helicopter shoots off flares and uses its full extent of Jamming equipment as it approaches at low level, using the dunes as cover.

"Vehicle on the scope....locked."
"Fire!"

An ATGM leaves its tube, headed for the Halftrack. The Lynx speeds away behind cover.

forget this one, took too long to post it (hate this forum, really)

OCC: There are no longer any helicopters hidden behind the hill. Ans plus, those SAMs wouldn't get a kill that easily. LRRAF helicopters, especially the CSAR variety, are full of ECMs.

The ATGM locked on and flew strait at the bit of armor above the wall...and proceeded to smack into the top edge of the glasis and sandbags. The warhead threw sand and shrapnal into a cloud as flying fragments of metal smacked through the light armor over the cab. Ubay fell over as it cut into his leg and abdomen.

Someone Grabbed the controls and pushed it into reverse...back through the gates that were then closed. Ubay was attempting to push the man out and patch his wounds...screaming in pain.

The bunkers at the edge of the compound were now manned.

OOC: Yeah, well none went off at you...although stingers and their UV tracking systems tend to be hard to jam...

The Gazelle recieves a transmission in more or less broken english and a heavy accent (something like a russian accent):

>>Helicopter at >insert position<, you have been spotted entering tatzikistani airspace. Identify yourself and tell us where the second helicopter is that acompanied you! Over<<
________________________________________________

Antonov cursed (something that seemed to become familiar to him during this mission) while the world around him seemed to explode. He ran over to the building in the middle of the compound and activated the radio that stood on a table left to the door. He changed the frequenzy and sent out a message.

>>Bear, this is Eye. We’re compromised and under heavy fire. We could need some backup. Over.<<

>>Eye, this is Bear. We had a malfunction of radarsystems in your area but two helicopters had been spotted that flew into your direction. One of them turned back to the border. What happened to the other one? Over. <<

>>It’s attacking us. They also brought some infantry with them, but the biggest problem is this damn heli. It’s too fast for the SAMs. We need air-support. Over.<<

>>Sorry, Eye, no air-support at the moment. We can’t risk that. All we can do is to hinder them from bringing in support for themselves. Over and out.<<

Again Antonov cursed, changed the frequenzy and switched the radio off.

The Gazelle and Lynx fire their ATGMs, more or less blindly in the direction of the compound and beat it. However, the Gazelle becomes aware of the two badly injured privates. The small helicopter speeds into the area, while the Lynx fires on the compound with a cannon pod. The Gazelle gunner jumps out and carries the closest private into the back of the cockpit, and then takes the second one. The Gazelle lifts off and speeds away, low and fast, compsoite armor deflecting rifle caliber ammunition.

"This place is awfully hot."
"Nellis, this is Patrol Alpha. We have sighted a compound at <insert position here>, heavily armed with possibly missiles and many automatic weapons. We will try to get a spotter in the area as soon as possible, but Alpha 1 and lead are damaged and carrying casualties."

This didn't look good. Nor did it bode well for anyone in the camp, be it hostile or Coalition. The gun metal under Kenny's chin and the closeness of Top Dog made her skin crawl and left a cold lump of ice in her stomach.

"Stop shooting, you're gonna kill us!" Kenny screamed in her best command voice, though whether or not she could be heard over the din of the skirmish, she doubted if it would do much good. She leaned out the observation window as far as she could to aid her message and would have fallen if Top Dog didn't have such a tight grip on her. Not being able to see any of the vehicles attacking the facility, she could not for sure determine if that was really an ally. Or perhaps even Coalition. Though at this point she didn't care.

Another transmission to the gazelle (though the Lynx will surely hear it too):

>>Unidentified Helicopter, identify. Patrols are on the way and will shoot you down if you don't coorporate. This is the first and last warning.<<

"Copy that Alpha. Be advised that location is within Tatzikistani borders. Use caution returning to allied airspace."

Colonel Stohry remained grim, hearing the traffic from his place beside the radio operator. He'd been called down when the first static-riddled message had come through and had been present for most of the others.

"Get a medic crew to meet them on the tarmac. I want satellite surveillance on that location as quick as you can get it."

Damn...

As the Gazelle attempts to load the wounded a RPG is fired from the nearby bunker at the unit. While a machine gun bursts open with 13 mm fire at the same target...

The missles prove to be damagng to the the stone walls, sending dust up and bits of stone and mortar thrown back out over the trench and glacis...

Someone lobs off a stinger that goes fairly wild.

Antonov left the building and looked round, always keeping his head down.

Alright, if there was no chance for real air-support they would have to help themselves.

He waved some guards to help him.

>>Get those lousy bastards, we'll use them as human shields.<< he turned at the prisoners and said in broken english >>And you'd better pray that helicopters are friends.<<

(ooc: alright, have to go to bed, about 3.00am here. Gaeltach, if needed, play Antonov and/or the announced patrol (two MIG-29, if LRR makes any trouble :wink: )

((Well, now that Tat, Gael and I have finally figured out something, I'll join this. It's a little late, but better late than never, right?))

Nine stood atop a guard tower on the fringe of the base, merely overseeing the skirmish. He could have killed those snipers before they put a round into the observation tower, he could have shot out the rotors of the helicopters, and he could have taken credit for the deaths of the two privates on the sand, he was sure of it. Doubtlessly, Top Dog or Antonov would yell at him for not taking part, but he didn't mind. For now, he watched, to see how these men could really fight, and he wasn't impressed. With a swift but casual jump, he hit the sandy ground of the compound, and adjusted his sunglasses. Some would think he's insane, dressing in black carbon nanofiber armor, but if anything, it served his ego well. The armor still had a few barely visible bloodstains from the messier kills in his assassination carrer, and they shone slightly in the sun, lending the armor a slightly crimson hue. He was here to command the compound's defense while the others did all the pondering over the captives, known the world over for his combat skills. Skills that would be used soon, it appeared. He smirked and lounged against a wall, listening as the sounds of battle slowly died down.

((I hope that was alright. A few quick notes on Nine. He's a Cyberutopian Agent, meaning he's powerful as hell, not to mention he has an ego the size of Texas. I don't think anyone here has ever RPed with one of my Agents, so I apologize if it seems a little godmoddy at first, but they are, in fact, capable of taking on a small army with minimal backup. There's only eleven true Agents still alive, twelve including Nine, so it's not like I have an army of them, you know. He also never finished his training before he went rogue, so he'll be significantly less powerful and have a much different technique than other Agents.))

Alexi dove to the grownd to avoid the shrapnel that was wizzing above his head. With the guard's attention occupied by the warcheif, Alexi dug the fork out of his pants anr began to try to insert it into the plastic restraints with his mouth, hoping to pop them off.

((Just to clarify, Nine is in the north end of the compound.))

OOC: Jeez! This place moves fast...

Grimzag lay on the ground, lying perfectly still. He slowly started to blink, mentally asking himself if he was still alive. Silence. He couldn't hear anything, bar a loud ringing in his ears. It was like a giant metal shutter had clicked shut over his ears.

Then the sounds came flooding back. Gunshots, screams of commands amongst the din of a heated firefight... why wasn't he in the thick of it?

He opened his mouth to shout, but all that came out was a cough of blood. Well, he was still alive. That was for sure.

Back to business, though. He couldn't sunbathe all day. He tried to get up, but lightning struck his chest, crackling down him, cooking his guts like burger meat. He tried to moan, but he simply coughed up more blood.

At least he was still alive...

Dan looked in the direction of the wounded prisoner. "Hey! How you doing over there. I wouldn't move around too much, you'll just bleed to death."

Grimzag rolled onto his back, with a great heave and a loud groan. Someone had warned him to keep still, but that was cowards talk. There was fighting going on. He needed to be in the thick of it. It was what he did.

But try as he might, he couldn't force himself onto his feet. He sighed and lay flat on the floor. Without realising it, he made himself look very, very dead.

Benson looked at the situation. The commander of the armed forces was nowhere in sight. Likly hiding like the self centered egotistical coward he was. She was left trying to prepare for a counter attack, one that this group wouldn't be able to stop.

She sat down on the M-55 and began to go through options in her head.

"Nellis to Alpha, be advised we're picking up two aircraft running an interception to your current course. Will you require assistance?"

The Colonel already had a fighter squadron of F-16's mobilized and lined up on the tarmac. They'd take off soon regardless of the reply and hold a pattern over the base until they recieved further instructions. He knew they couldn't get there quick enough to do much good, but hopefully the threat of having them ready would serve as a deterrant of sorts. Leaving the Comm room, he stalked off towards the Intel wing, where several officers were struggling to set up the requested surveillance. An orbiting satellite had not been hard to find, but atmospheric interference proved a temporary problem. Admist all this frustration, Colonel Stohry couldn't help but wonder how the crew had managed to wind up in Tatzikistan. Afterall, the helo wreckage had been found several tens of miles from the legal border.

-----

Perhaps it was a figment of her imagination, but the fighting seemed to die down a bit. Glancing around from her vantage point, Kenny saw the big warcheif lying motionless and bleeding among the prisoners. A chill sunk in as she worried for the safety of her squad. From this distance, the cause of his wounds could not be determined but she feared shrapnel and collateral damage. Thankfully, no one else looked in all that bad of condition. Another prisoner near Grimzag (also from outside her squad) appeared to be just fine, and this gave her hope.

Behind her, she could hear Top Dog swearing and grabbed her roughly by the collar once more. He threw her to the floor and barked something she could only assume to mean "don't move," before running off down the stairs. The second he was out of sight, she scanned the room for anything sharp she could use to extricate herself.

Slinging the M-4 over his bleeding and very painful shoulder, Harper ran across the north prison yard in a ground-eating stride. Seeing the man who identified himself only as "9," he stopped on the wall beside him.

"I am not giving up after finally capturing someone useful. We need to do something, and we need to do it now. Either you get us some defenses lined up, or we're moving the whole camp. And that's a lot of work I don't want to do. Benson is trying her best with the M-55, but she needs help and more to work with. I know you want to see this succeed as much as I do."

(argument deleted by request of Gaeltech) we'll say he took it in the stomach...

...which means that he's bleeding every single one of his guts out all over the sand, hasn't eaten or drunk water in at least a day, and isn't being taken care of by anyone, let alone a medic with a kit. if he's not dead, then he's certainly incapacitated, and will be dead pretty quickly.

(gael, can i keep the above at least?)

er...wow, this moved fast. so there's an attack on...claymores have been planted around the prisoners...the attack's not going too well for either side (so i gather)...

Seeing the claymores around the prisoners, and the halftrack that wasn't doing too well, he decided to see if the APC was any good. He was just a mercenary, and not really a specialist at anything (though experienced with general weaponry and combat). He emerged from the vehicle, cleared out the junk from its front, and crawled back though the rear door, into the driver's seat. He swore at the crude instrument panel. Where the hell was the ignition? And why hadn't the advisors relabeled the controls? Saiga in hand, he cautiously emerged from the APC to go find Benson. (he doesn't see Alexi)

ooc: what i could find, the M55 is just a large truck, not a LAV, and probably not armed. therefore, probably not a good idea for base defense.

He ran up to the LAV. >>Ey! The southern prisoners have been taken care of - whatshisname set Claymores and the Warchief's almost in two pieces. It doesn't sound good out there, and you don't look like it is. The APC over there still has a working machine gun, might be operational, and looks like it can take abuse a little better than that.<< He pointed to the lightly smoking halftrack some distance away. >>Unfortunately, I have no idea how to operate it, just the machine gun. You do. What do you say? If not that, then I'm armed, ready, pissed off, and open to suggestions.<<

Meanwhile, at the northern end of the compound, the latrine still stank as much as ever, none of the prisoners had said a word since Joker was hauled away, and the 7 or so guards were standing/crouching in semi-cover, their weapons raised. Some ran off to the machine gun bunkers, including the one with the ammo belts. Two of the remaining ones stood near the wall, hearing voices on the other side. This area looked secure for the duration.

ooc: so LRR, shall i assist in the rescue, which i declared i was doing alone on the first page here?

m55 - http://www.armyvehicles.dk/m55.htm
saiga - http://club.guns.ru/eng/saiga12.htm

i might get a sketch of the APC up sometime. does anyone want it?

OOC: Bereza, I've already made my ruling on Dregruk. Let it lie. In fact, please delete that so the argument isn't stirred up again.

OOC: Sorry it's not a RL M-55...It's an Alconian M-55 which is no longer used in front line service...similar to
http://www.army-technology.com/projects/blazer/blazer2.html
(M referes to Marine Unit type 55 actually sorry for the confusion)

However, the turret varies dramatically. It only carries 6 medium-long range anti-air in a single pod with the gun mounted off center, allowing a small radar to be installed on the turret. The turret is much heavier in my version... (My current LAV-AD has a smaller gun turret and body mounted VLS cells and has better amphibious capabilities...)

IC: Benson looked at the man and barked...>>That APC isn't going to do a bit of good with gunships in the air and not enough damn aircover...<< she thought about it, really she was short personell...she had the crew for her LAV, and maybe this guy could drive the APC...well at least be the gunner. No they needed to move out really...the border here was not very secure...and trying to hold a defense.

>>This postion is untenable, without air support or more heavy gunfire this is going to be a real mess when the rescue team shows up.<<

They haven't seen the APC, they didn't fire on it...well maybe it can be of some use.

>>Have you ever driven a APC or a tractor before?<<

>>Drive? Never have, doubt I can. Even if I could, I still have no idea how to even start it. I know how to shoot well and take cover quickly. That's about it. I was suggesting that you drive it, and I operate the heavy machine gun on top. Probably not as useful as these missiles or the chaingun, but I'm sure that you've heard of the Sokolov*? You want "heavy gunfire", you got it - I'm sure I could bother those choppers quite a bit. I just need to get into a firing position, which means somebody has to drive it, because the gun's way too heavy. And...wait. Why aren't we using this M55 then? I'm pretty sure I could operate its weapons with a little work.<<

*it's a heavy machine gun (13mm caliber, 1.5m barrel) with a very high ROF, giving the same psychological effect as the RL MG-42 did in WW2.

"There's no time to move the camp, defending this place will have to do. Likely they've already got a sat on us, if you can give me some time with a computer, I can bring it down." Nine told Harper, glancing over at him. "We don't have much time, so I'll get to work. I'd suggest going back and looking after your little pet up in the tower."

Nine walked over to the APC and ducked inside for a moment. Within a few seconds, it's motor roared into motion.

>>You!<< Nine shouted at (whatever Bereza's char's name is) roughly. >>Get over here and man this gun! The rest of you, gather up some sandbags and follow us!<<

"There's no time to move the camp, defending this place will have to do. Likely they've already got a sat on us, if you can give me some time with a computer, I can bring it down." Nine told Harper, glancing over at him. "We don't have much time, so I'll get to work. I'd suggest going back and looking after your little pet up in the tower."

Nine walked over to the APC and ducked inside for a moment. Within a few seconds, it's motor roared into motion.

>>You!<< Nine shouted at (whatever Bereza's char's name is) roughly. >>Get over here and man this gun! The rest of you, gather up some sandbags and follow us!<<

ooc: i sense a potential godmod...nothing concrete yet.

Hairy (not his real name) gave Nine a dirty look, and shouted, >>Hang on. We'll do a lot more AA damage with this thing than with the APC. Not that we can't do both.<< He looked back at Benson, awaiting an answer.

OCC: Bereza, yeah you can do the rescue. The Rovers and other Uhlans vehicles will keep the compound's defenders occupied as best they can.

IC:

"Negative, Nellis. We are on an approach to the base right now."

The two helicopters approach the airbase. Close inspection reveals the fuselages to be heavily shot up, riddled with bullet holes of varying sizes.

They set down on the helicopter landing area, and the Lynx crew rushes over to help the Gazelle crew carry the two badly injured privates out of the helicopter. A Gaeltech ambulence comes speeding towards the helicopters.....

Meanwhile, a pair of Uhlans columns converges on the compound. The vehicles drive slowly so as not to kick up dust, and arrive near the compound just as night begins to fall. The Land Rovers and other vehicles take up position a healthy distance from the compound, and wait for the opportune moment. Several milan teams are sent foreward, and keep watch on the compound from cover behind sand dunes and atop rock formations.

OCC: Bereza, yeah you can do the rescue. The Rovers and other Uhlans vehicles will keep the compound's defenders occupied as best they can.

IC:

"Negative, Nellis. We are on an approach to the base right now."

The two helicopters approach the airbase. Close inspection reveals the fuselages to be heavily shot up, riddled with bullet holes of varying sizes.

They set down on the helicopter landing area, and the Lynx crew rushes over to help the Gazelle crew carry the two badly injured privates out of the helicopter. A Gaeltech ambulence comes speeding towards the helicopters.....

Meanwhile, a pair of Uhlans columns converges on the compound. The vehicles drive slowly so as not to kick up dust, and arrive near the compound just as night begins to fall. The Land Rovers and other vehicles take up position a healthy distance from the compound, and wait for the opportune moment. Several milan teams are sent foreward, and keep watch on the compound from cover behind sand dunes and atop rock formations.

Benson put her hands up...>>I'm waiting for them to send a gunship ourway then take it out...Then I can use the 25 millimeter chaingun to clean up any unarmored vehicles and personell out there...Now got help the idiot in black...Of course I'd go wear a flack jacket in that thing...<<

There were two people sitting in the M-55, the gunner and the driver, fuzzy.

ooc: i sense a potential godmod...nothing concrete yet.

((Please, explain. If you mean the bringing down the sat thing, I didn't mean crash it into the ground or anything, just mess with the picture, or reroute it to another location.))

>>I heard that, Commander.<< Nine responded, his tone acidic. >>I thought that a smartass like you would have figured out I don't like being insulted by now.<<

He gave a mocking shrug to Benson and turned back to the APC. Not far away, some of the men had begun setting up some quick cover for the APC's future position.

She sniff in derision at him. He'd been standing around doing nothing for what the past five days or so? What did she care if he heard her or not...very unlikly she'd live through this mess anyway. >>The only thing you've done recently is stand around and scowl...<<

>>I don't have the patience or the time to bicker with you like a schoolchild, Benson.<< Nine shot back. >>I can do more than twenty of you can. Now go practice insulting a mirror, it'll save at least one of us some time.<<

The APC coughed, and Nine called over one of the soldiers to manuever it to the prepared cover. The ex-Agent stalked up to the observation tower and stood on the roof, overlooking the twilight desert, it's beauty lost on him.

"I know you're out there, poised to strike." He murmured to himself.

Benson laughed as the APC began to move, in a circle. The men stopped it and then figured out that there were two clutches. It wobbled over to the protection, letting one side get ahead and then speeding up to correct. It was lucky someone figured out to slow down before doing any damage...
(OOC: Sorry, but that's what would have happened to most people if you threw them at an APC or any tracked vehicle the first time. It's a bit weird having two throttles/clutches/transmissions...)

She went back up to the small redoubt that she had built on the other southern corner of the building. Making sure to stay below the parpet incase of snipers.

((I am aware of that A&H, Nine's in a rush after all, plus it's funny. :D ))

((Yes it is...there's a few large ego's in this Rp (and I've put my foot down about a few things also) so I've tried to be as open about things...love the conflict between 9 and Benson... :wink: ))

"Come on, ya muppet..." Muttered Grimzag to himself, "You've taken a helluva lot worse and pulled through... so start getting productive."

Grimzag tried once more to sit up, this time succeeding. He sat on the ground, blood pouring out of him, and started groaning.

[i]Get up. Get up, you moron! NO! Don't! You'll just get shot again, and there goes your chance of being useful. You need a gun. Something to do your duty with. We need a gun..."

"I need a gun..." He started murmuring.

Dan looked over at the wounded soldier. He was mumbling something about getting a gun. Sure, it was a good idea, but it might just get him shot again.

"Hey, the best thing to do in a situation like this is to go with the flow. See how things work out."

"No... I get a gun, we can change the flow here. It's what I do, dammit!"

Near the border a tatzikistani patrol (send out to see if the helicopters had been the only intruders) found the convoy’s tracks.
One minute later the two MIG-29s changed their course and followed the rough direction of the tracks.

Meanwhile the government of the country hosting the airbase (is it you Gaeltach?) received a message from the tatzikistani government, expressing the governments resentment concerning the illegal crossing of the borders not only by two helicopters but also by ground forces and demanding an explanation.

Observers could watch a growing military activity near the border (ground forces as well as airforce units)

OOC: Yeah, I'll host the base if it'll make things easier to coordinate.

Colonel Stohry's face darkened reading the printed accord of Tatzikistan's outrage. This was turning into a real mess. Stoic, he glanced up at the Major who had interruped the emergency staff meeting with this information.

"Thank you, Major. Shut the door."

The Major stepped inside the conference room, pulling the door soflty closed behind him as Stohry turned to Colonel Zimmerman, who had been invited to sit in on the board.

"How sure are we of what's happening out there?"

-----

Kenny, by sheer luck, found a sharp piece of metal on the floor, deposited perhaps by the small explosions from earlier. Carefully, she wedged it against the wall, and attempted to cut the plastic ties. Painstakingly, she managed to sever the bound but came away with several scratches and cuts, some deeper than others. The plastic remained on her wrists like cheap bracelets, but at least they were no longer attached. Grabbing the piece of metal which proved to be surprizingly warm, she cut the bonds from her ankles and ran down the stairs. Outside, she couldn't see any of the now-familiar hostile faces, but armed men were everywhere.

Just what are you hoping to accomplish here? Yeah you're free, but now what..get shot?

Now she found herself torn between equally appealing options. Try and escape the compound, or stay and help extricate her squad and the other prisoners. As compelling as the prospect of escape proved, where the hell would she run to? It was just desert out there, and she didn't even know where she was. Chances were better than not that'd she'd die of heat and dehydration before she found help. But staying meant she'd get caught again, and tortured or killed.

Hoping to blend in a little better with the hostiles (who seemed to be uniformed in whatever they could find,) she stripped off her BDU blouse. In desert camo pants and a black T-shirt, she ran back to her squad, hoping to find some sort of weapon en route.

Kenny had made one fatal mistake...she hadn't noticed the low number of women on the hostile force. Which ment a new one was going to get noticed...

Benson's eyes caught something and stared for a moment...

>>Attention, grab the femal prisoner before she does any damage...<<

Antonov, still close to the building in the middle of the compound heared Benston yelling and turned round.

>>What the...? Hey, you! Stop!>> he shouted with his heavy accent and leveled his AKM at the woman he now recognized as the highest ranked coalition soldier they had caught. Harper, you idiot!

Dammit...why did I think that would work?
Resigned for the moment, and not really wanting to die just yet, she stopped between Grimzag and Dan and turned to face the man with her hands raised.

Antonov hardened his grip around the AKM, stepped infront of Kenny and rammed the buttend of his gun into her stomach.

>>Hope, you understand that was no good trying to escape, do you?<<

OOC: I'm assuming that it was Kenny that got thumped in the stomach... and that she is next to Grimzag...

IC:

Grimzag spied a chance to get a gun. He had to move fast, effectively and not dilly-dally at all.

He pulled back his right fist, and brought it forwards with considerable strength, aimed at the back of the soldier's knee...

ooc:stupid me, of course it is Kenny, already edited.

Antonov saw the moving out of the corner of his eye but couldn't believe that this bleeding, half dead corpse could still be able to move, at least not that fast, so he reacted too late. Grimzag's right hit his knee and it buckled. Antonov fell to the ground and landed on his knees.

>>Ahh! You damn...!<< he turned his head round, the AKM still in his hands, and looked at Grimzag. >>You still alive?<<

Kenny doubled over the rifle butt, and caught herself with one arm as she fell to the ground gasping. Miliseconds later, she saw Grimzag knock the soldier's knee out from under him. She was just as surprized as anyone that he could still move, let alone pull off something like that. Hoping that he was going for the gun instead of a fight, and chancing that he would stay on their side, she found the strength and breath to throw all of her weight into Antonov's chest and tried to wrest the weapon from his grip. Or at least help restrain or distract him so the big warcheif could have better results.

He was still too surprised that Grimzag had been able to do this that he didn't even see Kenny come. Fortunately the AKM was still between them when she jumped into his wide chest (plus that this would feel like jumping into a wall of bricks for Kenny) so she didn't threw him to the ground.
Holding his gun with both hands he brought his right hand up and pushed Kenny away. He wasn't sure if he had hit her chin with the buttend but he thought he heared her teeth collide.

While that happened he had no time to take care about Grimzag.

The Yell was in English...the 7.65 millimeter machinge gun blasts left a line of holes over their head in the stone wall...and everyone stopping to look at the group on the ground.

"Get up with your hands behind your head...Or I'll lose the claymores on you and your men...understand." Benson's voice carried across the compound yard. She was standing holding her infantry support rifle pointed at Grimzag's head. Fuzzy was now stading in the LAV's commaders post with the heavy machinge gun pointed down at the group.

The Claymore mines stood silently between them all and the rest of the compound.

In her moment of desperation, she had hoped that having him off balance and on his knees would make it easier to knock him over. No such luck. He shoved out with the rifle, catching her under the jaw and knocking her back. Hitting the ground with her shoulder, she grabbed her jaw in pain, afraid that he'd broken a few teeth. Thankfully, he'd only managed to bust her lip. She froze in place hearing machine gun fire close by. Way too close. In the following silence, she made out the order though her ears were ringing.

With blood trickling from her lip in a thin rivulet, she grudgingly complied.

Dan gestured. "That is why we don't do that. It was not an oppurtune moment."

>>Tie her arms behind her back and bring her over here<< Benson ordered.

A few men found some rope and tied Kenny's arms behind her back. They pushed her back to the other side of the yard towards the Hidden APC.

((This should have happened just before A&H's last post.))

Nine had heard Kenny clumping down the stairs of the observation tower, and had trained his rifle on her since she had appeared below him. Now he lept elegantly from the roof of the tower and hit the ground in a kneel. He rose from his crouch and swept the heavily modified, almost alien looking rifle from his shoulder and jabbed it in Deathjaw's face.

>>Why are we keeping these pathetic excuses for humans alive? Ivan could have told anyone, not just a random helicopter team. For that stunt alone we should be able to put them out of their misery.<< He stated sharply.

"You," he said coldly, drawing a black tinted katana, one that rang as icy cold as his voice, and placing it against Kenny's neck, "should be dead. I will make sure of it the next time you try a stunt like that, despite what the idiot beside me might order. I dearly hope you will test my temper again soon."

>>If you want to kill them, do so...Harper only really cares about her...<<
was Benson's relply.

"You can kill some of the others, if that would make you happy," began Harper in that strange language. The sounds of fire within the base had drawn him from the task of uncovering a weapons cache at the west wall. "She cares too much about her precious team. That gives me valuable leverage. If you kill them, make it loud. I want her to suffer for this insolance."

((Dang, I don't want to kill Dregruk's main character, so now I need a reason not to...hey, who's seen Shindler's List? :wink: ))

Nine grinned like the devil himself. >>I would love to kill something...<<

Nine placed the rifle barrel to Grimzag's forehead, and his armored finger tightened on the trigger...

It wouldn't budge.

Nine looked at the rifle. The safety was off. Slightly annoyed, he flicked it off and attempted to pull the trigger again.

Click...

Nine looked at the rifle again, glowering, and tried it once more.

Click click clickclickclickclick!

"Argh!" Nine growled and whipped out his combat pistol.

BANG!

The report echoed off of the desert walls ferociously, but Grimzag, suprisingly enough, wasn't dead. Nine had placed the gun alongside the Warchief's temple and shot into the sand several meters behind him. Nine glared at the sand hanging in the air like it was to blame, holstered the pistol and gave Grimzag a savage punch in the face before storming off.

Colonel Zimmerman looks at the map on the wall.

"Well, from the looks of things, the helicopters came under fire when they spotted a compound over the border. They report seeing people tied to poles out there. I don't know what you want to do, but I think we need some tanks. I can get a squadron of Sabres and Spartans here very quickly, if need be."

Meanwhile, the camoflauged convoy waits under the cover of a rock cliff. Many Uhlans troopers lie flat on top of the cliff, with a view of the compound. Most stay well away from the edge, however.

But a few go close, mostly the ones with the big guns.

"Let's blow some stuff up."
"Sounds good."

The two troopers signal the rest of the group to get down from the cliff, which they quickly do. The two pyrotechnic troopers collect quite a stash of white phosphorous grenades, which they start throwing over the cliff quite a distance from the camoflauged position of the convoy.

Nine looked at the white smoke drifting upwards, so bright it almost hurt the eyes. Before long he was atop the observation tower again.

>>Stay sharp!<< He commanded at the heavily armed troops below. >>And try aiming this time!<<

He fished something out of one of the many pockets on his armor. It was a cyndrilical device with a red lens, and he snapped it onto the scope on his rifle. Nine peered through the infrared attachment, through the smoke. Nothing yet. He sees a canister come toppling down from a nearby cliff, and follows where it came from. He sights in on what he can see: just the top of one of the trooper's heads, and waits quietly.

Stohry scowled. The situation sounded suspicious enough to him, but there was still no confirmation that the people there were the missing Coalition squad.

"Let's sit tight for a while, and keep an eye on things. If this place is legit, I don't want to stage an attack on Tatzik soil. The last thing we need is to turn this into an international incident, and a potential war. Let's wait for confirmation."

Shortly after, a message was dispatched to the Tatzikistani government requesting information about the situation and any knowledge of the downed squad.

Kenny was walked behind the LAV down the cassion and through a small doorway into a large, vaulted chamber lit by small gun ports along one wall, of couse it was early night so the darkness was only broken by a few bright flashlights.

>>Put her in those leg irons.<<

Kenny found herself pushed to the ground and turned over. Her legs were locked into a managle on each leg with a modern, heavy padlock using a heavy new padlock. The manacles were attached to a chain running across the floor of the room and attached at both ends to the walls at about floor level. The set up allowed Kenny a small circle of movement, about five feet, in the center of the room without being able to get to either end of the chain.

The men turned away with their flashlights and the rusty squeel of a hinge could be heard. Kenny also found that her hands were untied, and there was a bottle of water next to her face.

Benson ordered the radar removed from the bed of the half track and a mortar to be secured in it's place.

Dan had been spending the whole time trying to pick out a good time to go. That last move got the leader of that squad hauled away and the wounded soldier beaten. Bad move.

The increased activity outside and inside the walls was a good sign, showing that help might arrive. But then their captors might decide to start capping prisoners.

Damn. If only I could get a message out. We'd have SOET taking this place out in no time.

Pulling Antonov aside, Harper snapped at his men to double check and secure the prisoners' bonds. If Kenny and the warcheif wanted to be heros, fine. But they would pay for it. Collecting his thoughts, he stared hard at Dan for a moment, recalling the circumstances under which he had come to join this little party. This one could still go either way. If he's no good for information, at least he'll make a wonderful example, he thought, grinning darkly. Walking with Antonov, he waited until they were out of the prisoners' earshot and spoke in low tones.

"I assume by now that you have tipped off the Tatzik government about the foreign forces? How long do you think until those bureaucracy-choked idiots get suspicious?" As he spoke, his gaze travelled up and rested on Nine staring intently into the desert. No doubt that mysterious figure was watching the forces he implied.

Benson turned to the half track, She had loaded a 81cm mortar onto the bed and bolted them down...now she turned and finallized orders...

>>You will move out, and circle around the outer southern defenses << Just keep popping those rounds over that cliff...and expect trouble...no dalying around out there...<<

She turned to Fuzzy, "You've got that ECM detection system ready...good.

The Half track again appeared on the outside of the compound and speed down the trench to the corner and pulled out among the dunes. As it did so it turned back across the southern flank and the mortar crews began send fragment rounds over the cliff and down behind. The rounds were fairly wild as they screamed down all over the place. The light HE shells exploding into balls of fragments some 25 yards wide.

The Half track rattled like it was being shaken appart as it continued to move across a stretch of packed sand between the dunes.

three soviet 120mm mortars had been set up in the yard now...dialed in on the cliff...unfortunatly those crews were no better shots but they had a longer range and heavier payload, and a stable platform.

Grimzag pressed an elbow against his broken nose. Blood spluttered down it, making red blotches in the sand. He started muttering insults about the guards, about how they wouldn't have a chance against him in a fair fight...

Antonov rubbed his still hurting knee and nodded.

>>Of course I did. But our ‘beloved’ Bear said they couldn’t risk to send us support by themselfes. So I think we’ll have to wait for the real reactions. But Bear also told me that they had spotted the helicopters. It will only be a question of time until at least a patrol comes across to see what happened.<<

As if this would have been a sign to them the two MIG-29 appeared over the hills where the LRR units hid and sped over the compound.

Antonov looked up and smiled slightly.

>>I’ve to use the radiophone.>> he said and ran back to the building, his knee didn’t seem to hurt anymore.

_____________________________________

Minutes later a message arrived in Gaeltach, saying that a tatzikistani army training camp had been taken under fire by foreign troops (including the two spotted helicopters which turned back to an airbase in Gaeltach) without even sending a warning.
The tatzikistani government hopes that this happened by mistake but expects the foreign troops to return to Gaeltach immediately. Else this would be seen as an act of war. The tatzikistani reaction in this case should be obvious.

The troops currently attacking the training camp would have ten minutes to retreat. Else two MIG-29s, patrolling the area, would open fire. More troops would be on the way, heading for the camp.

The tatzikistani government, of course, would expect an explanation how this could have happened and suggests to execute the responsible officer in command of the helicopters which opened fire first.

(no word about a downed squad or something similar)
______________________________

Antonov left the building and stepped next to Harper.

>>Alright. If those guys<< he pointed at the hill behind the building >>don’t leave immediately they’ll soon wish they had. But I hope they follow the advices. Else we’ll be visited by some tatzikistani troops. And that could be as bad as being visited by them, or even worse.<<

Nine looked over the compound. It's defenses had been set up quickly, the others could take care of the rest. He dropped to the ground, and walked to the cell where Kenny was being held. The rusty door creaked open again, and Nine stepped in. He leaned calmly against the wall, and silently watched the woman.

"You're too important to be left unattended, far too important." He told her. "But what I said earlier still stands, remember that. Certainly you have questions. Maybe I'll answer some."

The Uhlans column which is very well camoflauged (you don't think they would just park out in the desert do you?) watches the jets, more than one trigger finger on the missile release to their SA-23 shoulder-launched missiles.

The mortar rounds land near the two troopers, and they scurry down from their position.

However, one unfortunate land rover blows apart.

The recon column, with just anti-infantry weapons, waits for another Uhlans colum to arrive- the heavy weapons column.

In the desert not too far away, a group of John Henry APCs, armed with starstreak anti-aircraft missiles, AMOS mortars, 120mm cannons, and assorted other heavy weapons approaches the border, but stops on the Gaeltech side. It finds cover and stays there until further orders.

This all still felt so unreal. Painful, but unreal. This time yesterday, they were training bound. Now... Hearing the rusty hindges protest to motion, she looked up as someone new entered her personal hell. In the gloom, she was unable to determine who it was, but the voice gave it away instantly. The arrogant wanna-be ninja. She walked to the end of her chain, putting as much distance between them as possible.

"How is my squad faring, and what the hell do you want with us?"

-----

Having read through the latest Tatzikistani coorespondance, Colonel Stohry calmly sat down and explained in a return message that until he could be sure nothing sinister was happening in the camp, especially in regards to the missing squad, those troops were not going anywhere. Explanations would come after the prior request was filled.

-----

Harper stared hard at Antonov for a moment, contemplating.

"I think the Tatzik army can be dealt with. Or at least one of the government officials, who will no doubt be sent out to ascertain the situation here for himself. We'll deal with them the same way we dealt with the others...'it's just a resistance training exercise.' They should buy it temporarily anyway...enough time for us figure something out."

The Uhlans column which is very well camoflauged (you don't think they would just park out in the desert do you?) watches the jets, more than one trigger finger on the missile release to their SA-23 shoulder-launched missiles.

The mortar rounds land near the two troopers, and they scurry down from their position.

However, one unfortunate land rover blows apart.



Of course they are camoflauged. But I don't think that they were able to wipe out all tracks (or even tried when the designated targets are behind a hill so those couldn't see anything). Plus that nobody in Gaeltach already knows that the MIGs were only able to detect the rough position of the troops. But anyway, now there is a bright and smokey torch, right :) ?

IC:

Having read through the latest Tatzikistani coorespondance, Colonel Stohry calmly sat down and explained in a return message that until he could be sure nothing sinister was happening the camp, especially in regards to the missing squad, those troops were not going anywhere. Explanations would come after the prior request was filled.

The next message to Gaeltach contains a second warning. The troops next to the camp would have only few minutes left to retreat, else they would have to pay the price.
Of course, if the gaeltachian government wished, a People's Inspector could visit the camp to confirm that everything was ok (or, though this was unlikely, to confirm that something was wrong).
But this Inspector could only do his work when the foreign troops (still intruders) left.

The message also expressed the governments wish for a peaceful solution and its hope that the gaeltachian government wished the same.

______________________

Antonov looked at Harper, wondering if he had told too much. Damn, this was way too confusing for him. Though he was ranked a Brigadier General in the tatzikistani Army he owed this rank to his patrons, not his abilities or experiences in combat.
He realized that he should say something instead of staring at Harper and answered: >>I hope you are right.<< He then turned away and walked back to the building with the radiophone, whispering >>I hope you are right.<<

Colonel Stohry had been waiting in the Comm room, and had his reply sent out shortly. It stated that while the Gaelic government would be interested in matters as well, this concerned the Coalition. Troops would be ordered to fall back. Though everyone would be sorely disappointed if they learned that no inspector was being sent.

Dispatching the message, he sought out his satellite imaging officers, and confirmed that everything was up and running. Continuing to the Intel wing, he left explicit orders to moniter all radio and other electronic traffic, and to keep a close eye on the Official once he was identified.

The half track returned to the camp. it appeared as if the enemy didn't want to come out at play.

Benson had seen some explosive flash...well she had gotten something at least.

"Well we have company...the question is what are they waiting for? Reinforcements likely..."

Nine gave Kenny a toothy grin that glinted in the dim light and stepped closer at her attempt to put distance between him.

"What, you don't need to be scared." He mocked. "I'm not going to hurt you if you just tell us what we want to know. But of course, your questions first. Your team. If I'm suffering in this hellhole, and I'm not lashed to a pole without water or food, how do you think they're doing? Miserably. I think that quite a few of them are going to just flat out die soon, a long, lingering death, rotting away in the sun...yes, not very glorious, as you soldiers always dream of, no doubt. And to think it's all because you just can't sit your ass down and give in. What are you fighting for? There's nothing left for you, nobody out there cares about you anymore. The armor column out there? They couldn't give less of a shit about the people in here, they don't even know you exist. Are you trying to hold out against us to keep a shred of your honor, so you can say that you resisted when you get back home? Let me tell you, you're never leaving this place ever again, and your honor isn't worth the life of the people you've trained with, bonded with for so long, is it? It's all about personal confidence to you. Pathetic."

Kenny scowled and looked away from the glinting smirk.

"I think you're sorely mistaken. They wouldn't have given up hope after so short a time. And especially without bodies to account for us back at the crash site. Besides," she remarked, a sneer evident in her tone, "even if you were right...honor is all we have left. You'll get nothing more from me than you will from the rest of them."

need a bump? buy now!

((I think Nine has managed to piss off every main character in the RP so far...go me! :D ))

"Will you still think that when they're bleached skeletons tossed over the walls into the sands and left to rot? Will you still think you're honorable when you can hear their screams but you're helpless to do anything about, chained to the walls as you are? I'll make sure every one of them curses your soul before I kill them, we'll see how you feel then." He remarked, acid dripping from his words.

He's just trying to get to you. That's how the game works.

She shuddered in spite of herself at the thought, thankful that the dark would conceal a momentary weakness. Remembering her training, she tried a different tactic.

"You know, your voice reminds me of a dog I once had. Cute little thing. Fluffiest little Yorkie you ever saw."

due to real-world problems, i can't continue being in this RP.

it's been a pleasure, but i must leave the NS world for what will probably be a couple of weeks. if you also enjoyed my participation, then let me know so that we can coordinate future RP's.

may you have peace.

OOC: Good luck to you Bereza. I hope everything is alright, and look forward to RPing with you again.

((I'm sorry to see you go, but you did well, and I hope we can RP again sometime.))

"A dog?" Nine replied incredulously. "Stop trying to avoid what you know is true. Just give in already, don't fight me, don't make me play mind games with you."

(Alright, do well Bereza. Hope we'll see you again sometime

do we really need this bump?

OOC: I was waiting for an LLR post... :?

OOC: Hah..me too. But gimme a few and I'll come up with something...assuming the server cooperates.

Growling under his breath, Harper watched Grimzag as he crossed the area once more. The big man was still bleeding. In passing, he muttered to a guard to get the warcheif looked at if the bleeding didn't stop soon. No sense in letting the big man bleed to death just yet. Beneath the moonlight, he stepped into the temporary holding cell that had been created for Kenny, and laid a hand on Nine's shoulder to get by him. Kenny was sitting at the end of her chain near the wall, facing away from what he could tell. Reaching up, Harper clicked on a small overhead light which was nothing more than a worstation bulb on a battery pack.

Grinning, he crouched in front of her. "How are we doing tonight?"

She scoffed but refused to look at him.

"Now now, no need to be rude. I don't know what he's been threatening you with," Harper began with a glance back at Nine, "but I'm not gonna let him hurt you or your squad. As long as you help me."

"Always a catch, eh?"

Harper withdrew his knife and played with it thoughtfully. "I need to know about Ivan."

"I already told you, I don't know anyone by that name."

"You shouldn't scowl so much...it doesn't suit you." Harper placed the blade against the side of her chin and guided her to face him. "Now...about Ivan."

"I don't f------ know anyone-"

"Shh..." he silenced her, laying the edge vertically across her lips. "Anger doesn't suit you either. But fear," he began with a sadistic undertone, lightly cutting her. "Fear suits you nicely. We can play this game all night, girl. It's up to you."

She closed her eyes, wincing.

"Now. Tell me about Ivan," he prompted again, this time holding up a picture.

Kenny stared at it a moment, unsure. "Behan? The mechanic?"

"Ah so you do know him."

"Well, yeah, I've seen him before, but that's all."

"You know...I don't really believe you. I need to know what he said, where he's been, and who he has talked to. Take a moment to get your thoughts together while I retrieve the rest of my...tools."

Grinning darkly, he left and made for the main building with renewed purpose.

When Harper passed him, Nine roughly disengaged his shoulder from Harper's rough hand.

"Oh, he always gets to have the fun." Nine scoffed to himself, playing with his blade. "You're in for a helluva ride girl, you can still fess up to what you know before it gets real bad. I can play mind games all day, but Harper..." he grinned insanely again, "he can do it all..."

Grimzag lay onto his back and coughed a little bit more. He had really screwed things up this time. First, getting himself captured. Second, completely mucking up a breakout attempt. Third, getting himself shot in the process... He took his mind off his foul-ups by trying to dig out some of the projectiles embedded in him with his fingers.

"Antonov," Harper began, pulling the man aside. "I anticipate an official coming to investigate soon. There's no other reason why those hostiles would have pulled back. I'm going to tell the men to keep with the plan. Find me later if you have a different idea. I'm going to go see what she knows."

Adjusting the small duffel bag on his shoulder, he turned to seek out his favorite prisoner. En route, he passed the tied prisoners, most of whom were attempting to sleep, or creating small pockets in their clothes to catch the dew that would form overnight. However he found Grimzag digging objects out of himself and cringed at the sight.

"Rest assured that no one will ever say you aren't hardcore. Unfortunately, that won't help you here." Sneering, he turned to the nearby guard and barked an order in that other language. "Keep an eye on him."

Kenny looked up as Top Dog re-entered her cell. She was disheartened seeing the bag he carried, but had been expecting it much earlier.

"Last chance, missy. Tell me what I want to know."

"I don't know anything!"

Stoically, he withdrew two items from the bag, both of which she had seen before. The lighter he set on the table beside the bag, but the hammer he held in both hands.

"Do you remember what I asked you to do earlier?"

Kenny tensed, fighting to control her breathing.

"I hope you did a good job. I wouldn't want this to come as a surprize."

Turning, he motioned for Nine to restrain her, leaving one hand exposed. Harper was mildly surpized to see that she didn't fight back too much. Grabbing her hand, he held her fingers together, leaving the pinky on its own. Lightly, he set the head of the hammer at the base of the finger, just below the knuckle.

"If you curl it, it's only going to hurt more. Tell me about Ivan," he prompted a final time, raising the hammer.

"He talks with some of the higher ranks," she breathed, fear edging her voice.

"What do they talk about?"

"I don't know, I've only seen him a few times."

Swiftly, he brought the hammer down on her finger, to which she responded by fighting against Nine's hold, and crying out through gritted teeth in pain.

"This isn't a game anymore."

To prove his point and make an example of her, the camp would have trouble sleeping tonight.

"You don't know the half of it, chipmunk..." Muttered Grimzag, digging one of his nails into his flesh. He gritted his teeth and blood squirted out as the nail digged deeper in. He moaned slightly when he reached the piece of metal inside him, and began to pull it out. His face contorted with pain as it slowly made its way to the surface. Finally, it came free and plopped onto the sand.

(I'm back. Sorry for the break but I had some technical problems [computers really hate me :( ]. I hope there are still some of you outside?)

Antonov nodded slightly after Harper had left. He knew that someone would come to investigate. What he didn't know was who. Did their organisation have members within the StateSecurity? And if, would they be able to send one of their sympathizer instead of one of the typical political hardliners working there?

Antonov sat down on the chair in front of the radiophone and decided to do the only thing he could do in this situation: to wait.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Later

The sound of the signal for an incomming transmission woke Antonov up. He didn't know how long he had been sleeping but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes.

He switched the radiophone on and listened to the voice. Then he smiled.
That was good. More than good. That was perfect.

Soon the helicopter would arrive. He had to tell Harper the news and wondered where this one might have gone to when his question was answered by Kenny's cry.

He doesn't waste time Antonov thought and chuckled.