NationStates Jolt Archive

The group marched on, leaving marks along the sand. Mister Wiki wiped the sweat off his head as the group crossed the border.

Hyenas follow the group slowly, the porters were chanting songs. The sun beat down on the intrepid adventurers. Just then they came to a train track. "This is a jolly good spot to hitch a ride!" he said. "Oh, I know you're wondering: 'how do we hitch a ride on a moving train?' Well, here's the plan: Edward has some liquid with him, so gluey, it will even slow down a train!

"Now all we have to do, is pour some of this stuff on the tracks, and when the next train comes by, it will slow down...only moments, and we'll hop on!"

OOC: Sorry about not posting, I didn't have time today. I'll try to toss one up tomorrow, but it won't be 'till late, and I've got another thread or two I'm working on.

The butler was applying the "stuff", and Wiki was reading a book. Just then a train came by. "Here it comes!" shouted Wiki. "Everyone spread out!" As the train zoomed in, it slowed down, and almost stopped. "Hop on evryone" Wiki said mounting the back of the train with his butler.

Patrick got his stuff together, and walked out. "G'morning to ya all!" He looked at Mr. Wiki spitting the steak out, and said, "No dinner last night and no breakfast this morning? We will have to find something soon."
---
Patrick lept onto the train. He almost fell off, but grabbed a handle, and pulled himself up. "There has to be food on this train somewhere. Shall I find the kitchen, Mr. Wiki, or shall we wait so we won't risk being found out?"

Afarasii had all his things packed up -- minus the tent and his meditation rug -- the night before, so the moment he got up, he took down his part of the supertent, rolled up the rug, and put it away.

"Mr. Sabbah" was already awake, making a small breakfast for the two, and when Afarasii awoke, he prayed with "Mr. Sabbah" and ate their small meal, having some green tea along with it. After finishing their short breakfast, they cleaned what dishes they used, and packed up their bags, Mr. Sabbah carrying most of everything, simply due to his size and strength.

The two pretty much kept to themselves until the train arrived, and following Mr. Wiki's lead, jumped on board the passing train. "Mr. Sabbah" had a bit of trouble getting up because of his size and the bags, but he was helped up by Afarasii, who jumped on top of the roof of the train and hopped down onto the back carriage.

"So, are we staying out here? Or do we have a room reserved."

"I'm afraid" said Wiki "for a nice room, you'll have to wait fo rMY personal train. We'll be borrowing a ride on this one." The train begin to pick up the pace, and as everyone hoped on the back, it took-off, as if it never stopped.

The wind blowing everywhere, Wiki said: "we must go on top of this fellow (the train), and to so follow me" he climbed up the ladder on the back, and as he did so, a man looked out the back door "Walton inc." it said on his uniform. "Oh, dear" said Mister Wiki. A moment later, teo dozen thugs with scimitars, and black turbans climbed out of a hatch, and to the top of the train, and engaged hte RP'ers.

The butler ran in, firing his Beretta. Then the gun got knocked out of his hand, and he grappled his opponet, tossing away his sword.

Wiki tried to satnd all the way up, but the train moved so fast, he couldn't keep his balence, and had to bend his knees.

The porters ran at the enemy. The captain, bent his knees, till he touched the ground, and let off a shot from his revolver.

Wolverstone got up on the train, and whiped out his combat knife. Knowing that if he used his action-express Desert Eagle magnum, it would make him loose his balance. And since he was renowned and unmatched in the underworld for his close combat and martial arts skills, he figured he could easily take a guy with a scimitar; with just his combat knife. So he engaged one of the enemies in close combat.

The enemy fought hard, but he was trained. As his opponet swong with his sword, Wolverstone ducked, stabbing the goon in the arm. When the enemy dropped his sword in pain, Wolverstone grabbed his robes, and stabbed him as hard as he could in the belly. The enemy felt his wound, then stood up, and fell off the train. Wolverstone grabbed his scimitar, and charged another enemy, hacking his head off, then getting in dual with another.

(ooc: Bump)

It was a rather close quarters situation, but Dimitri wanted to use his rifle as long as possible before running straight against that mob of swordmen. All of their group were armed with modern firearms, while the attackers had only bladed weapons, and the best strategy would naturally have been the sit-'n-shoot.
As Dimitri, who had climbed up right after Wiki and Wolwerstone threw himself to the "ground" and fired his magnum sniper (completely removing the head of one of attackers) he saw Wolwerstone and some of the porters going straight towards the swordmen. Dimitri cursed in Russian, as these guys prevented him of aiming as they blocked the sight. He stood up again and moved cautiously forward, trying to get an open sight at the enemy so that he could use his sniper rifle without putting his comrades in danger.

Ulrich ran forward and gripped his pump shotgun. He pulled the trigger and the enemy fell to the ground bleeding his guts out. Ulrich put away his shotgun and pulled out his UMP. One the enemies was coming right at him. He aimmed then fired a couple shots. The enemy was still coming right at him. Ulrich brought as he knife then threw it. It landed on the enemy's head. Ulrich walked up and pulled it out.

Pat cursed, and rolled across to the end of the car. He pulled his rapier, and climbed back up. Damn scimitars, with their wierd fecking shape!. He kicked an attacker, and he fell in between the two cars. He also sliced another one, before retreating. Rapier won't hold agaisnt a bunch of scimitars. He put it away, then pulled his revolver. He aimed at a man's head, and fired. Perfect shot. He then aimed at a man's gut, and fired. He fell to the ground, and rolled off the train. He jumped on a man, and forced him to the end of the car. He rolled him off, under the train car, and under the train. He heard a scream, then a smush. He put his revolver back, and jumped to the next car, then the next. He got out his ak-47, laid prone, and began picking off the attackers.

"Zara, up front, now!" The Egyptian nodded at Makarov and climbed up the ladder onto the roof, shouldering the AA-BAS. As Afarasii jumped up to the roof, the Egyptian went on one knee and began opening fire with the ten gauge automatic shotgun.

Behind the party, Afarasii pulled out a few somewhat thick pile of shurikens. "Move!" When the Siberian found a hole, he tossed the shurikens into as many legs of the attackers as possible, driving their spikes into their kneecaps.

"HEADS DOWN!" When he called that, he pulled out what looked like a palm pilot (but smaller) and pressed a button, revealing why the shurikens were thicker than usual. In reality, they were filled with a densely packed explosive, causing all of the legs of those who got stuck with a shuriken to be blown to small, fleshy bits. The attackers who were stuck were blown back a bit, not only from the force of the blast, but now they only had one leg, and the shrapnel from the shuriken inevitably stuck in the other leg or worse, the groin area.

Instead of going up close like he typically would (due to the large array of gunfire from his side -- including the AA-BAS), he chose to use one of his silenced USP .45 pistols. Unscrewing the silencer to provide for better accuracy, he got on one knee and began eye surgery on the attackers, as his bullets were not lead -- they were custom-designed poison-tipped darts made to fire out of the USP. As it was a fast-acting posion designed at attacking the nerve system, the eye was the logical target, as the encased dart could go straight through the jelly-like eye, use the casing (which was designed a bit like a bullet, though made to break apart upon contact with a hard surface) to break the skull behind the eye, and with the casing desintegrated, the poison dart could enter the brain itself, killing the nerve system right at its core.

Dimitri's rapid fire had managed to take out ten people as two full clips were pumped to the mass of swordmen. The others, those that had been on the roof that is (OOC: Our whole group couldn't have made it to there and take part to the fight. The roof of a train doesn't givee enough room for that. So I assume they waited behind.), had done their part too - Ulrich with his guns and knife, Pat with his Kalashnikov and Afarasii with some rather extraordinary, yet extremely efficient (and scary!) techniques. The roof was covered with bodies, and blood had painted the wagon's walls completely red around the spot this battle had taken place.
Suddenly, it was all silent. The last of the swordmen that hadn't manage to escape through the hatch again had just taken a burst of 7,62's to his stomach - delivered by Patrick's Avtomat Kalashnikov - and flown down from the roof. Dimitri put another clip to his rifle, drag the first round to the chamber and got up real slowly, staring at the still open hatch, still pointing his gun towards it.

"Was anyone injured?" He asked, not shouting yet still loud enough to be heard over the wind's whistle.

"I'm alright." Patrick responded to Dimitri. He slowly approached the hole Dimitri was aiming his weapon at. He was a few steps away, and ready to fire. He called Afarisii, "Ey, use one of yer grenades, whichever one you want, and make sure it is clear down there."

A few more men emerged from the hatch, they stared at the bodies everywhere. The man infront threw back the part of his turban that covered his mouth. "The have troubled Mister Walton for the last time, prepare to face Allah for juegement..." he opened his robes to reveal a SITES Spectre 9mm M~4. He opened fire laughing menecingly. Four men behind him opened fire with Uzis. "What, you thought we only" *he stuggled for balnce* "swords?"

A man in a turred opened fire with a M249 SAW. "Down with the pigs!" they all chanted.

Wiki received a shot in the shoulder, and stumbled over. The SAW shot up the butler into a bloody mess. Five porters were killed/wounded in the first ten seconds of fire. The Sandstorm's captain was shot-up in the arm, falling over cursing.

One goon tossed a dinamite stick, the captain though in excruciating pain, caught it in his still good hand, and threw it of the train.

The Spectre armed goon shot the bomb-thrower (on HIS side). "That idiot would kill us all!" he said.

The shooting continued.:mp5::sniper:

Patrick rolled over, avoiding fire. As the man turned to shoot his partner, he leveled his AK, and shot him in the stomach. He crumpled toi the "ground", and then another shot hit his skull, exploding it. He aimed at more men emerging, and fired. He hit one with the butt of his AK, and sent him between the cars. he held on and screamed for mercy, but Patrick hit his fingers with the butt. He fell, and was swallowed under the train, with a crunch. He then whacked one man aacross the face in the confusion, and then put a bullet straight through his cheek. He fell down, and held his face. Pat kicked him to the side. "I'll save him for later!" Pat aimed, and finished his clip in another man holding a weapon. His soul escaped from his bloddy corse as it fell to the floor. "Fucking bastards!" screamed Pat, as he slugged a man in the face, and he fell off, and got his legs crushed byt he train. The man then got stuck, and was being dragged by his now shattered legs. He did this, because the bac had punched him in the stomach and attempted to push him off.

"Goddamnit!" Afarasii and Zara threw themselves behind a vent, allowing the metal to absorb some of the fire. "Zara, give me those grenades!" Zara, the Egyptian, pulled out a White Phosporous grenade, two concussion grenades, and two frag grenades, and some duct tape. First, Afarasii wrapped the two concussion and frag grenades with the duct tape, under cover fire from Zara's AA-BAS. Once this was done, he attached them by the detonation levers to a long piece of string, and attached the saftey pins to another. A few yards back, he did the same thing with a WP grenade.

Once the contraption was completed, he swung it over his head and tossed it, holding onto the two strings. With a flick of the wrist, all of the saftey pins flew out of the grenades. When they were almost at the hatch, He pulled the remaining string, flicking off the detonation levers on the grenades.

"GET DOWN!" The two concussion and frag grenades went into the hatch and exploded, blasting a massive hole in the train car, causing the roof to collapse in on that side, knocking the attackers off balance. With the roof collapsed and the shrapnel, plus the explosive force of all the grenades, everyone inside the car was dead.

Unfortunately for the now knocked down attackers, the WP grenade didn't explode yet. But it did, right in front of one of the attackers' face, completely incinerating his head and torso. Due to the 15 metre blast radius, no one near him would have survived. And if they did, they'd be burning with an unquenchable fire.

Zara, clearly angry, immediately began opening fire into the smoke and firecloud with his AA-BAS, showering anyone who miraculously survived the grenades with automatic fire from the ten gauge shotgun. Two hundred and fifty shots and a minute later, he ducked behind the vent again to reload. Afarasii was tossing up and down another WP grenade.

"I am TIRED of this BULLSHIT!"

Patrick yelled in response to the "bullshit" remark, "I'd drink to that, friend, if we had any fecking drinks!" He jumped to the front car, and slammed his feet into the glass. He flew in, and kicked the engineer in the face. Before he could scream, he found his neck had been snapped. Patrick slowed the train down, and jumped back up. He yelled, "'Ey, someone c'mere and tell me where we should go!" He had his two revovlers ready, incase someone tried to attack him, and he continued to guide the train. At a crossing, a lin of camels were crossing. He accidently hit one's hind legs, sent it flying, and made its head land on the track, which was run over. Oops, he thought. He ran back, and locked the door to the engineers quarters, and now the only way to get in easily was from the window.

Dimitri put few loose cartridges to his Sako, after using three against the group that had previously emerged from the hatchet. He had filed these bullets - Geneva convention's paragraph that prohibited the use of dum-dums didn't apply to him since he wasn't in the army anymore - and slowly moved towards the huge hole in the car's roof. One of the unlucky attackers was still alive, pierced by a number of shrapnells, his leg on fire. Dimitri, who didn't want to see men suffer without a reason, placed a bullet into his head, exploding it completely. As the train stopped, he jumped down to the car and carefully examined the pile of bodies making sure none of them was moving, or if there was anything worth taking with them. This didn't seem likely though - the massive explosion and phosphor flames had destroyed it quite completely. (OOC: Like in previous time, if there was anything interresting left Dimitri took it.)
He then just threw the rifle to his back and climbed up again.

Afarasii jumped over the collapsed roof of the car and made his way over to the engine. To the onlookers, it seemed as though he was floating above the cars, because of the extended amount of time he stayed in the air.

When he got to the engine, he backflipped into the window to see Patrick.

"Where are we going?"

Wiki entered through the window of the front of the train, gripping his arm in agony. "HELP ME!! THIS HURTS LIKE HELL!" he said.

The captain walked on the top of the train, kicking any wounded suriviors of the top.

The 9 surviving porters (5 of them were wounded) struggled along the top, taking all the dead's valubles.

OOC: YEA! MY RP MADE IT WHILE I WAS GONE!

OOC: THat's why the plot wasn't going anywhere. :)

Afarasii just glanced over at Mr. Wiki and shrugged. "You're fine. I've had worse." As Afarasii aquainted himself with the train, Mr. Wiki's screams got louder, and he finally got fed up with it.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Afarasii pulled out a knife and plucked the bullet out of the shoulder, and wrapped the wound in some gauze and medical tape. "You'll be fine. Now, where are we going?"

Wiki screamed at the knifing. "YOU BLOODY IDIOT! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO, KILL ME?!?!?! Anyway," he continued "we're headed for Al Khartum, to stock on supplies, from there, we'll buy passage on a boat, and continue our journey to our destination. You understand, of course, I can't tell you our final destination, for fear you were captured. After all, not everyone has my willpower when it comes to pain and torture..."

"Shut the fuck up Mr. Wiki. You can barely handle a simply emergency medical procedure done by Afarisii. But since you have such a high tolerance of pain, i'm sure you'll be fine, buddy." he patted him, forcefully on the arm, in a mocking fashion, on top of the wound. He grinned, and said, "Anyway, to Al Khartum we go!"

Afarasii nodded to Mr. Wiki. "Fine, then. Next time you get shot, I'll be sure to let you bleed to death, since you don't want me to ever give you medical attention. Now then, set your course to Al Khartum." As Patrick did this, Zara came up to Afarasii and whispered something in his ear.

"Patrick, as we approach the city, about twenty miles before the city, there's a hidden railroad track off to the right. It doesn't look like there's anything there, but there is. Go on it when we hit it. Zara and I need to pick up some supplies from some friends there."

Dimitri, who had monitored the whole situation with utter disbelief, decided - once again - keep his thoughts unannounced. He could not understand how could his comrades be acting like this, or why. It was childish and incredibly unprofessional, to start mocking and even intentionally hurting their leader who, despite his flaws, was indeed the person who was to pay them. The whole yabble about his ability to sustain pain was also beyond his understanding. He was a civilian! How could these two professional soldiers feel insulted for what he had said, especially in such a humorous tune? They were now all over him, and even Afarasii was talking like a little girl trying to be mean. Naturally Wiki was stunned for the pain, he couldn't be too used to it, and being a rich and powerful person he was also used to talk big about himself without paying too much attention.
Patrick and Afarasii didn't clearly understand this. Dimitri felt disturbed for the way things were developing. Wiki had lost all control over this expedition, and what little respect he had ever had in the eyes of the group. Had he said anything, eveb tried to restore order, Dimitri would have supported him - even against Afarasii and Patrick. There were however no signs of anything like that, which meant that there was no point in stepping in, or making these two dreadfull - if in a way rather inane - mercenaries to distrust him.
If Mr.Wiki wasn't a man enough to do anything stop being humiliated, he wasn't worth helping.

Dimitri sat down on the roof and lit a cigarette.

"Whattehell... as long as I get payed..."

Wiki stared at Patrick in a very angry manner. "Mister O' Reilly, if you expect to receive as much payment as the rest of the party, then I suggest you refrain from your dilibertly damaging my epidermus..."

The captain winced as he clibed through the window, nearly falling off the train. "So, Mister Afarasii, tell me more about your hidden track."

The porters lowered themselves throught the window, leaving the most wounded behind, and two other porters to tend to him.

Wolverstone turned to Patrick: "Well that was fun" he said putting away his combat knife and tossing the oddly shaped simitar off the train, And then nodding to the group. He turned to Wiki "what now?"

"Stop." Afarasii grabbed Mr. Wiki's arm and held it still. He reapplied pressure to the bullet hole and rewrapped it, ensuring it wouldn't bleed. Zara got out a thick cloth, and Afarasii made a sling out of it, putting the executive's arm in it.

"I don't know what the bullet hit." He leaned in a bit closer, so only Mr. Wiki could hear. "Now, for all the stuff that is going on, I don't like you very much. I don't have to. I do ask, though, that if I try to help you, do not yell as if I tried to kill you. This is not a way to win over your employees." He patted Mr. Wiki on his (other) shoulder and stood up to the controls, mounting a signal device so it went out the front. It was to send out a signal to alert the hidden sensors to move the track so they could go on the hidden one.

"Ah, about the track? Zara here can explain much better." Zara Sabbah nodded, and stood up. He had a very thick Egyptian accent, and a deep voice. It was cold, yet seemingly dignified.

"This track that we are approaching was initially designed as a training camp for Hezbollah, but was raided by the Mossad in the early ninteen nineties. Mr. Makarov was kind enough to buy it from them. It is still used as a training camp to whomever decides to pay Mr. Makarov the most. Hezbollah uses it, the American CIA, Mossad, everyone. It is run by some locals and some ex-spies of various nationales." Afarasii nodded.

"Correct. Since our obtaining it from the Mossad, we have since made some...rennovations to the camp, and I have large stockpiles located here from my time in the arms trade. I also have a converted old armoured Soviet Missile Train for our enjoyment, should it be necessary. The Sudanese do not get involved -- I have some friends here that see to that." The Siberian smiled. "Khartoum is my second home."

"Mr. Wiki, I had better recieve equal payment." He left it at that, and then listened to Afarisii and the others speak. As he approached the hidden railroad, he slowed down, slightly. He continued to control the train. "Ay, Afarisii, tell me when to stop this thing."

Wiki turned to Patrick: "now don't make me spoil the others' shares, simply to punish you Mister O' Reilly...and if you want to keep to your share intact, you ought to help, rather then hamper, and harm me."

"I believe I have helped greatly in security. And who is driving this thing now? With all due respect, Mr. Wiki, please think before you speak." He did, however, at the "spoil the other's shares" comment, as he found it amusing.

Wiki looked around. "Can anyone here get me something to eat? And where IS Edward? It's been tea-time for 15 bloody whole-minutes!"

Afarasii clicked off his satellite phone (small enough to operate like a typical cell phone) and turned to Mr. Wiki. "Wait another fifteen minutes, or so, and there'll be food. And Patrick," he said, turning to his Irish friend. "There's plenty of alchohol stored, too. Balieys a choice of yours?"

He looked at his watch, and clicked the button on the signaler he mounted on the train, which sent out a laser to another receptor near the train tracks. Up ahead, you could see some of the sand being moved aside as train tracks began coming up out of the ground. He counted back in his head, and his eyes went wide.

"Shit, this train is too long! Patrick, Dimitri, go back five cars and cut them, or we'll flip. Hurry! You have little time! Zara, start moving this." The Egyptian nodded and went up to the train controls and began the linkup between the transmitter and the train controls itself, preparing the train for a sharp right turn. He then turned to Mr. Wiki as Patrick and Dimitri set off.

"Assuming they cut the cars in time, there is a well-kept medical facility in the camp that can attend you and some of your servants. Oh, and who else is on this train...?"

"Can't get off yer lazy arse?" he joked. "I'll do it for ya, Master Flake." He climbed out, checked for wounded porters, and pulled them back over, and slid them through the window. He then went back, and began disconnecting the front car, hat everyone was in, from the rest of the train. He puled his AK- and fired at the nail. A piece of the bottom of it snapped off, and then he began to loosen it. It was hard, as the train was moving, but before he got it, yelled at Zara, as loud as he could, "Get something ready to destroy the rest of the train.

After Zara was ready, he disconnected it, and elt Zara finish the job.

When Zara heard Patrick, he looked at Afarasii, asking for permission. Afarasii nodded, and the Egyptian started rooting through his large bag. The others looked on as he assembled the weapon, which turned out to be a small rocket propelled grenade launcher. He pulled out another case, which contained two RPGs, and loaded one. He unlocked the door and stepped out onto the deck, climbing up to the roof.

Interestingly enough, there was a car on board carrying some explosive materials. Excellent. He got down on one knee, took aim, and fired the rocket when the engine was far enough away, blowing the rest of the cars to smitherines. He wasn't entirely concerned about survivors -- they'd be killed by the environment. He calmly climed back down off the roof and back into the compartment, put the unused RPG back in its case, and disassembled the weapon, acting as if he did this kind of thing every day.

"Brace yourselves." The engine made a sharp right onto the now uncovered tracks, veering off course, and heading somewhere that clearly wasn't Khartorum. Behind them, you could watch the tracks fold back down into the ground as the engine passed over them.

"It'll be about twenty minutes, or so."

The captain pulled his flask out, and begin to drink. Wiki abruptly snatched it from his, spilling the beverage everywhere. "The leader needs a drink too" Wiki said gulping down several mouthfulls. "Oh, c'mon now that's lovely" (http://www.studip.uni-goettingen.de/pictures/smile/gulp.gif) he said.

"Thats making me thirst for the creature too." sighed Patrick. He smirked, then said halfjokingly, "Are we there yet?" to Afarisii.

OOC: Shit, forgot about this. I'll toss up a post tomorrow, promise.

OOC: Shit, forgot about this. I'll toss up a post tomorrow, promise.
OOC: We all make mistakes in life children, it's learning from those mistakes that counts. That mistake...which incedently I have made several times...is a small one COMPARED TO THE POWER OF THE FORCE: which is my incompetence bottled.

Afarasii nodded. "Just about."

After a few more minutes of travel, the sand ahead of them began to give way, and a ramp into a tunnel under the ground was revealed, which the train went through, the hole that they came through closing again.

"As I said, we made some minor upgrades since we purchased it from the Mossad." The train continued on underground until it finally stopped at a terminal, patrolled by heavily armed and armoured guards, most of whom were actually Cossaks.

"Exit here." Afarasii and Zara jumped out of the train, the rest of them following. One of the Cossak guards comes over to help Mr. Wiki off the train, and some medical personnel rush in to take the wounded to the underground medical facilities. An Iranian steps out of the double doors into the main body of the underground camp and embraces Afarasii, when they begin speaking in Farsii.

OOC: I obviously don't know any bit of Farsii, but for the sake of RP, it's ICly in Farsii.

"Afarasii! How are you doing?" The Siberian smiled (twice in the same trip -- quite a record) and let go of the Persian.

"I'm wonderful. How are things here?" The Persian nodded at the Siberian.

"Things are wonderful. We recieved a new shipment of ammunition today. By the way, Afarasii, what are all these people doing here?" Afarasii moved aside and motioned to them. "Oh!" Exclaimed the Persian. "Zara! I didn't see you there." Zara smiled and nodded in greeting to the Iranian basekeeper.

"Anyways," Afarasii said, moving the conversation back on topic. "My friend Patrick here," he said, pointing at the Irishman talking with Dimitri. "Was going on a Safari in Africa, and since I was in town, decided to join up with him. We ran into some trouble, so I led them here to resupply and get some medical attention for those who needed it. HEY, PATRICK! COME HERE!" Afarasii motioned the Irishman over to them. He then looked at the Persian, continuing the conversation in English.

"This here is Patrick O'Reilly, an old contact of mine in the IRA. He's the one I was talking with you about." THe Iranian's eyes lit up and he smiled at the Irishman.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. O'Reilly. Mr. Makarov here has told me many great things about you."

He shook his hand, "Funny, hes never mentioned you before." He smiled slightly, but you could tell by looking in his eyes, he was cracking up. "Afarisii mentioned a bar of some sort?" He allowed himself to smile broadly now.

Mister Wiki leaned over, and fell on his face. "ARGH, HELP ME UP!!!"

The captain was raiding the bar for drinks. "Hmmmhum...AAAH! Wine, and a very good vintage to be sure..."

The porters climbed down the lader, carrying lots of weapons with them. "Mistah Wikee," said the leader "I hafa yow weapons. Didja wan't me to place dem in the front compahrtment?" He turned to the others, and begin conversing in an African dialect. "If you boys" he said indicating the mercenaries "need anything, give us a hollah, and weez be sure to help ya."

ooc: im gonig away until sunday, so you guys know.
ic:
"Thank you sir." replied O'Reilly to the porters.

WTF Parkus? :confused:

OOC: Heya. I'll get a post up after lunch.

The Iranian nodded, not insulted. "I know, I ask him not to speak about me or this camp. I think you will find our accomidations to your liking. Now, about that train..." The Iranian's voice trailed off as he motioned to one of the guards there. The guard nodded and spoke into his walkie-talkie, communicating with the gate room across the railroad bed.

On the other side of the railroad bed, large mirrors were lined along the wall, with a renforced door on the wall perpendicular to it. They were, of course reinforced cliche one-way mirrors, behind which there were people working computers and security arrays. When the man in charge there recieved the instruction, he typed in his password into the main console and activated a series of programmes, with the final result of the roof over the train opening up to display something they couldn't see at the moment.


Out in the main bed, the Iranian and Afarasii began unloading things from the train. Afarasii turned to Patrick and Dimitri. "Get everyone and everything out of here." THey did so, and when it was just the train, the guard signaled back to the gate room, and the object on the roof lowered itself onto the train. It was, in fact, a hydraulic compressor. The railroad bed underneath the train lowered itself into a pit and moved away so as to not damage the railroad tracks, and the hydraulic compressor smashed the train engine into a pancake. As the compressor lifted itself out of the pit, the metal was turned into scrap by what could only be described as gigantic saws. The compressor was finally out of the pit, then, and the railroad bed came back into place. The Iranian smiled.

"Excellent! Now, with that out of the way, you're just in time for supper! Come, come!"

********************************

The party was led to a large dining room, with very decorative tables set up in the large room, chandelliers hanging from the ceiling. Afarasii pulled out the chair at the head of the table and helped Mr. Wiki into it, as he was injured. Afarasii then sat at Mr. Wiki's right, the Iranian sitting across from him. Patrick sat to the right of Afarasii, and Dimitri sat across from him, to the left of the Iranian. Zara Sabbah, the Egyptian friend, was not currently in sight, but this was a common occurence in these facilities, as Zara had many friends "on staff" here at the base.

Afarasii and the Iranian stood up and helped the rest of the party to their seats, and then sat back down as the clergymen came out.

The clergymen led the group in a non-denominational prayer, and then blessed the food as it was brought out.

The appitizers in this case were very simple -- shrimp with either marinara or a cocktail sauce (that was very spicy). Congac was served to the non-Muslims of the group (A Baliey's Irish Creme was served to Patrick on Afarasii's request), while the Iranian had a simple cup of green tea, Afarasii having the same. The Iranian looked up to Afarasii, who was devouring a large shrimp smothered in the hot cocktail sauce.

"So, Afarasii, what brings you here?" Makarov looked up from his plate and responded to the Iranian.

"Well, Xerxes, my friend Patrick here was coming down here on some 'safari' adventure, and I figured he could use some company and I tagged along. We've been through some rough spots, but since we were in town, I figured I'd stop here to get the crew and Mr. Wiki back into health and resupply." The Iranian, appearantly called 'Xerxes' nodded, and turned to Mr. Wiki.

"So, Mr. Wiki, what brings you to the Sudan?"

OOC: I just edited my post, see above.

PAtrick, a lapsed Catholic, crossed himself after the prayer. After tasting the appeztizer he yelled, "Damn! This is spicy!" He took a few sips from his drink "But thanks for the special order, Afarisii," He winked at him.

"So, Mr. Wiki, what brings you to the Sudan?"
"Er, ah, a buisness venture of sorts...um, any tea here?"

The captain poured himself a glass, and sat down at the table, and begin conversing with the porters. "Anyway boys, it was about a year ago, and me and me crew was cruisin' down tha' Suez Canal in the Sandstorm..."

"So, Mr. Wiki, what brings you to the Sudan?"
"Er, ah, a buisness venture of sorts...um, any tea here?"

The captain poured himself a glass, and sat down at the table, and begin conversing with the porters. "Anyway boys, it was about a year ago, and me and me crew was cruisin' down tha' Suez Canal in the Sandstorm..."

Afarasii smiled and nodded back to Patrick. "I thought you would appreciate it."

The main course was brought out afterwards, which consisted of what would be considered a "THanksgiving dinner" to most Westerners -- turkey, stuffing and dressing, gravy, mashed potatoes, etc. Afarasii leaned over to Patrick, whispering in his ear. "I would be careful with the vulgarities, the people around here are sensitive to such things."

Xerxes, however, was continuing his conversation with Mr. Wiki. The Iranian found him eccentric, yet interesting. He chuckled when Wiki said he was on a 'business adventure.'

"Well, Mr. Wiki, the last person who said that found his body dismembered and spread across Darfur." Xerxes took a sip of the tea and a bite of the turkey and nodded.

"Of course, Mr. Wiki. What kind would you like?" Afarasii took this time to converse with Mr. Wiki.

"I believe we started off on the wrong foot. Now that we are here, in a safe environment, I believe it is time you start opening up a bit to us. Maybe not them," Afarasii said, motioning to the rest of the group. "But to us," the Siberian finished, moving his hand and pointing to Dimitri, Patrick, Xerxes and himself. "The more information we have, the better we can help you."

He whispered back, "Ah, strict muslims?" He added to his comment to Wiki, "Yes, we need a little bit mroe information."

Mister Wiki turned to Patrick: "now, now, now, Mister O' Reily. As I recall, you turned dangerously violent at me expecting you, the very man I hired for the purpose, to protect me back at the boat. How can I possibly trust you? Let's just call it a 'treasure-hunt' for now
"As for danger Mister Xerxes, let me remind you, I have a very well outfitted little party, I'm no lone adventurer. However, I am happy you are concerned about my well-being, and I will say weapons, food, and transportation are what we need most right now.

"Anyway" the captain continued "it was getting pretty dark, and the boys were-a-tellin' me 'bout a legend, and I wasn't believin' a darn word of it. But let me tell you, I soon-enough would know it as fact..."

"You ran like a coward." Patrick smiled. He turned to the Captain, "Aye, wouldn't I know many legends myself? Let's here the one you have heard."

"You ran like a coward." Patrick smiled. He turned to the Captain, "Aye, wouldn't I know many legends myself? Let's here the one you have heard."
"If I fought like you did, I wouldn't hire you" Wiki said with dignity,

The captain leaned back so everyone, including Patrick could hear. "Well boys, it was a tale of a buncha voodoo fellers, and boy did it seem like a whoper. Ya see, dem boys said that on a full-moon (like the one out on that very night), the voodoo queen of the tribe would arise and wreck havok for a fortnight with her devotees, and anyone around the area would be found, and sacraficed to their devil-god. Well, I had been ta New Orleans, and many parts of Africa and I fancied I knew a thing, or two about voodoo. Voodoo sounded pretty hokey to me, and how many voodooers lived a-near the Suez anyhow?
"The next morning, one o' me boys was a missin', and we found a human skull aboard, next to a message written in blood! It said 'the many will kill the few horribly.' Well, now I don't really take-a-likin' to cryptic messages, and this was no exception...

Wolverstone browsed over the differnt foods, and found none to his liking so he pulled out one of his energy bars. He started eating along with a sip from his own privet water bottle that he aways carried with him.

OCC: WTH? Bump.

OOC: WTH? Is everyone dropping this RP, or something? It was just about to get good. You haven't even been in the jugle yet!

OOC: I would love to see this RP up 'n going again!... just that.. Parkus, are you sure this sort of a random assault to the super-hidden and mega-defended underground base right through the wall is the best way? ;) Your RP and story, of course... but personally I would say we don't actually need a long and bloody firefight after every 5 minutes of chatting and travelling.
Just my Humble Opinion, naturally.

OOC: I would love to see this RP up 'n going again!... just that.. Parkus, are you sure this sort of a random assault to the super-hidden and mega-defended underground base right through the wall is the best way? ;) Your RP and story, of course... but personally I would say we don't actually need a long and bloody firefight after every 5 minutes of chatting and travelling.
Just my Humble Opinion, naturally.

OOC: Agreed. I just needed to use something to bump this that's all. I'll delete it. And, could you telegram the rest of the gang?

OOC: Ummm... Shouldn't that be, like, your job or sumthin'..? I supposed you had told about this revival to everyone already!

OOC: Ummm... Shouldn't that be, like, your job or sumthin'..? I supposed you had told about this revival to everyone already!

I DID! NO RESPONSE!

:eek: :confused: