Krakow, September 5th and 6th, 2000
"George, the helicopter is off the table. Completely. Stop bringing it up."
"Captian..."
"No, it won't work. You're hanging most of our people out to dry and fucking over anyone else westward leaning in Krakow. We're not doing it. We've got other options, right."
"Two others." He unfolds our map. "One if by land and two if by sea."
--------------
"I had thought my family to be dead. Lost when Warsaw was struck. Last winter I receive a letter from a trader. They write, escaped Warsaw after Pact troops broke the siege. They live in a farming commune in, near, the city. My children and grandchildren are well."
-------------
"Going by land would be the most direct. Maybe even the safest to start. By your account Filipowicz owes you a big favor. That should get your command upriver and through his lands. That would leave you, 200 kilometers to walk to friendly lines. That's the easy part."
"Yes, the hard part is getting through the lines."
"No it isn't. Cap, the men are safe here. We need one vehicle to get there. I can lead us through the lines. That's what I do."
"We're not leaving them here, Moonpie. I'm taking them with me, just like I'm taking you."
"Then give me Leo and those guys from the insertion party. Hell, Ed too. We'll need a mech."
"Thank you, fuck no!"
"Ed, Moon, not happening. George, it's an option. Tell us about the river."
"Old Man Rataj, he has a boat and a mission."
-----------
"This spring I take the River Princess, one of my tugs downstream. I have cargo; bicycles, mortars, other items. I will bring back food for city; and my family. We had sailed for 2 days before we were attacked by an small group of boats."
------------
"The Old Man has a boat and barge. He tried to get the Rada to fund an expedition with ORMO or Warta guard. They refused. Nothing in Warsaw but rubble anyway. He pressed them hard. Made such an obnoxious pain of himself until they banned him from the building. He's not welcome at the Wawel either. Our information says he's been trying to hire mercenaries to make the trip. You've got a company, hell, a tank too."
"Which gets him to Warsaw, how does that help us?"
"You get him to Warsaw. He gets to be with his family. Then you take the barge and follow the river all the way to the Baltic. Last reports put the 50th Armored Division, 2nd Marine Division, and sundry other units, here. That's less than 100 kilometers by land. You can walk our item there. They can use a fishing boat to sail it the rest of the way to friendly lines. Or you could try to trade the tug for something seafaring and deliver it yourself."
------------
"Pirates in this day! I had expected marauders on the shore. Maybe paying bribes or trading to get under guarded bridges, but well organized pirates. These I did not expect. They herded the Princess into shallow water. Dropped mortars on us. If not for the fall of night they would have killed us. By the grace of God, we escaped to the shore and returned to Krakow."
--------------
"And you think he won't have thought of just that happening. What fail safes will he have in place? Damn it, I don't even know if any of us knows how to sail a tug or run the engines!"
"Nearly 400 kilometers to Warsaw by the river. You'd have plenty of time to learn."
"...."
--------------
--------------
"So, that Captain is my tale and why I need you. I have one tug, Wisula Krowola, the Vistula Queen. I have a cargo barge. You have brave, skilled men. Forgive me, soldiers. Together we can break them, retrieve me family, and return here to safety. I will provide you with food and medical care on the trip. You will take payment upon our return in script, food, or other goods."
"Mr. Rataj, I have, effectively, a reinforced company under arms, a tank, and several armored personnel carriers. If we go, I intend to take them all."
"So, 300 men? Good, you have many guns. They will flee or die. I care not which. What do you say to one hundred script or goods per man."
"It is not the..."
"I have pre-war medicinies..."
"Mr. Rataj, I don't want the medicinies.
"What do you want? Gold?"
"My men and I are far from home. I propose a trade. We will guard you and yours to Warsaw and back. In exchange, after your safe return, I want you to take us all the way down river to the Baltic. Naturally, we will provide security on that trip as well."
"....."
"You'll be the man who reopened the Vistula."
"...No, captain, I agree to your offer. This winter though will be as harsh as the last two have been..."
"If the weather prevents our passage this year, I would accept it in the spring. I'm sure you have friends in the city. They can tell you about our activities. We're prepared to stay the season if we have to."
"Then we have a deal; security for passage this winter or spring."
"Mr. Rataj, I'll shake on that."
---------
"George is going to have a fucking fit when he hears you told him you wanted a ride all the way down."
"He'll be foaming when I tell him he took the deal."
"My Ma always said, 'Honesty's the best policy'"
"Get some rest. I'll need the engineers and a security detail early tomorrow. We need to head out to Nowy Hut and look the craft over."
Monday, November 21, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
037: Hard Math, Simple Breakdowns, and Other News
Log, Krakow, September 4th, 2000
268 mouths consume a little over 800 kilograms of food a day.
That's 268 in Krakow script or about 1/30th of our gold war chest.
There's not enough to make it through this winter.
---------
Troop morale and health continues to improve with adequate food and rest. Active numbers are up to 207. Doc reports that of the remainder another 27 should be back to duty within the week. That leaves 28 in the physically unfit (4) or heavily traumatized (24) category.
----------
Skill Sets
Support Personnel: 69 Marginalia -- All personnel listed below are employable by Krakow standards
5 Field Medics
3 Medical Assistants
3 Electrical and Electronic System Techs
6 Construction and Civil Engineers
4 Aviation Mechanics
7 Mechanics
6 Armorers
1 Veterinary Health Specialist
Marginalia -- these, only for manual labor
8 Cooks
7 Drivers
6 Logistics
-- 1 described as a "get it all"
5 Admin
8 Farmers Marginalia --keep these for the compound
Line Troops: 137
94 Infantry
-- 8 former Navy personnel
-- 2 former Air Force personnel
9 Combat Enginnering
19 Armor
15 Artillery
----------
Equipment
All the men are carrying a small quantity of personal items looted from the camp, blankets, and food
Armament
Rifles in various calibers for 72
Machine guns, RPK-74, PK, M-60, for 12
Shotguns for 15
Pistols for 26
Support Weapons
10 RPG-16 with limited ammunition (27 rounds total)
120mm Mortar (9 HE, 1 WP, 2 ILLUM)
3 82mm Mortars marked "FabrykaWojo" (no ammunition)
General Equipment
10 soviet style flak jackets
62 soviet style helmets
general kit for 25
------------
Noted in the Log
In addition to his assigned duties, Aron Sawicki organized a thorough inventory and requisition of abandoned materials in the compound area during our absence. Clothes, underwear, footwear, coats (fall and winter) and other cold weather gear, blankets, pillows, kitchen items, and bags were available to the troops upon their arrival.
Several cans of Red and Blue paint were discovered and set aside for tactical markings. A basket of red sheets, towels and rags is available for the making of Red Diamond shoulder insignia.
Out of his personal funds he has obtained a 1000 L water trailer.
268 mouths consume a little over 800 kilograms of food a day.
That's 268 in Krakow script or about 1/30th of our gold war chest.
There's not enough to make it through this winter.
---------
Troop morale and health continues to improve with adequate food and rest. Active numbers are up to 207. Doc reports that of the remainder another 27 should be back to duty within the week. That leaves 28 in the physically unfit (4) or heavily traumatized (24) category.
----------
Skill Sets
Support Personnel: 69 Marginalia -- All personnel listed below are employable by Krakow standards
5 Field Medics
3 Medical Assistants
3 Electrical and Electronic System Techs
6 Construction and Civil Engineers
4 Aviation Mechanics
7 Mechanics
6 Armorers
1 Veterinary Health Specialist
Marginalia -- these, only for manual labor
8 Cooks
7 Drivers
6 Logistics
-- 1 described as a "get it all"
5 Admin
8 Farmers Marginalia --keep these for the compound
Line Troops: 137
94 Infantry
-- 8 former Navy personnel
-- 2 former Air Force personnel
9 Combat Enginnering
19 Armor
15 Artillery
----------
Equipment
All the men are carrying a small quantity of personal items looted from the camp, blankets, and food
Armament
Rifles in various calibers for 72
Machine guns, RPK-74, PK, M-60, for 12
Shotguns for 15
Pistols for 26
Support Weapons
10 RPG-16 with limited ammunition (27 rounds total)
120mm Mortar (9 HE, 1 WP, 2 ILLUM)
3 82mm Mortars marked "FabrykaWojo" (no ammunition)
General Equipment
10 soviet style flak jackets
62 soviet style helmets
general kit for 25
------------
Noted in the Log
In addition to his assigned duties, Aron Sawicki organized a thorough inventory and requisition of abandoned materials in the compound area during our absence. Clothes, underwear, footwear, coats (fall and winter) and other cold weather gear, blankets, pillows, kitchen items, and bags were available to the troops upon their arrival.
Several cans of Red and Blue paint were discovered and set aside for tactical markings. A basket of red sheets, towels and rags is available for the making of Red Diamond shoulder insignia.
Out of his personal funds he has obtained a 1000 L water trailer.
Monday, November 14, 2011
036: Hi's & Low's
Ed's Journal, August 30th, 2000
Five days to Krakow.
Hey kids, I hope all the little Eds I've had since I came back home forgive me not writing. It has been a very busy week with ups and more ups! Here's the tale for the history books. Marginalia -brag much
Game plans completely changed. Instead of raiding the camp and using it as bait to take the POW column, we ambushed the column and used those guys to take the camp. Both ops went off like we actually knew what we were doing.
The column ambush occurred on August 23rd. There were minimal casualties among the prisoners, we captured 5 guards, and 2 ran off to live another day. Doc pulled another screaming charge with gun blazing. She took a few rounds and decided to pass out. Otherwise, no one on our team was hurt.
The ranker in the column is an old friend of Llyellan's. Gunnery Sergent Walters and him served back in Sarajevo. The Gunny ran mortar tubes for the marines before getting shuffled to the 5th. He's also done his duty by keeping the men in the column organized and disciplined.
I'm not trying to minimize their condition. Most of the men were in sad shape from hard work, ill treatment, and little food. But given the chance, those who were capable of fighting shook out into squads and fire teams with minimal oversight from us.
Of the two hundred in the column, about fifty were combat troops and capable. Another fifty were rear-echelon types. They'd had their Basic and then some since the war started, but they weren't solid. The remaining ninety or so were wounded or shell-shocked.
We took the 24th to lay plans for the camp and let the men rest and get some decent food in them.
On the 25th, we loaded the worst of the casualties into the OT's, wagons, and truck. and made our way to the camp. We made a large loop around it to the north, to avoid their OPs and patrols, and traveled late into the night.
I waited with the main assault force while Leo, Llywellan, and ten picked men, all heavily armed with M203s and light machine guns, infiltrated the camp. They eliminated the watch tower guards on the north side, cut their way through the fence, and used the deep shadows on the east side to get to the center of camp. They signaled Gunny when their charges were placed. Marginalia - always put 2 men in a watch tower
Gunny's team dropped two 120 Mortar shells into the barracks #1, walked it south into barracks #2, and dropped two more. Marginalia -120's make a big crater The infiltrators blew the mortar pit to hell with a satchel charge and Leo rocketed the parked BMPs in case they had crews. The other member of their team put 40mm HE into the other guard towers and engaged the standing guard on top of the bunker. Once the bunker was suppressed, the grenadiers eliminated their fighting position.
There wasn't much to do when the main force arrived. Almost all of the camp guards inside the wire were killed when their barracks blew, we took two prisoners out of the roving guard. The men outside the wire decided not to come back..I figure some took a look and decided they had pressing business elsewhere. The camp commandant, inside the bunker, was the last hold-out. We gave them a choice, come out in the next five minutes or we'd burn them out with their own fuel stocks. The commandant took his own life. His second in command and their women came out.
Cap had all the prisoners, including the women, stuffed into the camp's punishment cells for their own safety.
I wish I could write that we all then went back to Krakow and were happy
Marginalia - this is in the logs, I don't need to do it
There were only about 100 prisoners in the camp, we had been told there should be around 300, our missing 200 had been sold. The commandants records showed he'd been paid a hefty price; gold, tank parts, and luxuries, by a Col. Czarny. The men had been marched off to Warsaw as slaves less than two weeks ago. Two fuckin' weeks. Marginalia -they'd planned to restock by taking the column and killing the guards "restocking" he called it
While Cap was chasing that down, several fights had to be broken up among the newly freed prisoners. Many of the prisoners were accused of collaboration with the enemy, having betrayed escape attempts, and other crimes against the rest of the prisoners. Cap had the men separated and those accused put under guard. After giving us instructions to loot the camp and strip the fields, she began questioning the men, accusers and accused both, and combing through the records with Leo.
On the 27th, she called us together with NCOs from the liberated troops. She told us of the statements she had gathered and the records that collaborated it. She told us of other statements that she had received and what wasn't collaborated by the camp records. Forty-two of the man we had just freed were guilty of collaborating with the enemy, willful treason, and had received special compensation for it. Eight others were guilty of serious infractions or abuse against other prisoners. Four men of the column had committed similar crimes.
Her face was tight when she told us. Stress, anger, grief? Probably all three. We didn't have the means or the manpower to bring such a group to proper authority. The sergeants were to have the men draw lots and form firing squads. The forty-two were to be executed. The other twelve would be dishonorably discharged and abandoned with the soviets we had captured. The results of her summary courts-martial were entered in the unit log. Sentence would be carried out immediately.
We marched them out of the camp into the southern fields, already stripped by us solider locusts, and formed them into a line. All of the men not required for base security were formed up. The charges wee read, shots fired, and men fell. We left hem there, unburied and unforgiven
Marginalia -fuck them all for making us do it
The soviet prisoners and their twelve friends were loaded into a truck. The OTs escorted them an hours drive west. They were abandoned in a small nameless village. They get to live. I hope never to see them again.
We finished inventory and requisition on the afternoon of the 28th. Cached what we could in the surrounding woods and spillt the rest. Our column, 268 strong, marched out of the morning of the 29th.
Five days to Krakow.
Hey kids, I hope all the little Eds I've had since I came back home forgive me not writing. It has been a very busy week with ups and more ups! Here's the tale for the history books. Marginalia -brag much
Game plans completely changed. Instead of raiding the camp and using it as bait to take the POW column, we ambushed the column and used those guys to take the camp. Both ops went off like we actually knew what we were doing.
The column ambush occurred on August 23rd. There were minimal casualties among the prisoners, we captured 5 guards, and 2 ran off to live another day. Doc pulled another screaming charge with gun blazing. She took a few rounds and decided to pass out. Otherwise, no one on our team was hurt.
The ranker in the column is an old friend of Llyellan's. Gunnery Sergent Walters and him served back in Sarajevo. The Gunny ran mortar tubes for the marines before getting shuffled to the 5th. He's also done his duty by keeping the men in the column organized and disciplined.
I'm not trying to minimize their condition. Most of the men were in sad shape from hard work, ill treatment, and little food. But given the chance, those who were capable of fighting shook out into squads and fire teams with minimal oversight from us.
Of the two hundred in the column, about fifty were combat troops and capable. Another fifty were rear-echelon types. They'd had their Basic and then some since the war started, but they weren't solid. The remaining ninety or so were wounded or shell-shocked.
We took the 24th to lay plans for the camp and let the men rest and get some decent food in them.
On the 25th, we loaded the worst of the casualties into the OT's, wagons, and truck. and made our way to the camp. We made a large loop around it to the north, to avoid their OPs and patrols, and traveled late into the night.
I waited with the main assault force while Leo, Llywellan, and ten picked men, all heavily armed with M203s and light machine guns, infiltrated the camp. They eliminated the watch tower guards on the north side, cut their way through the fence, and used the deep shadows on the east side to get to the center of camp. They signaled Gunny when their charges were placed. Marginalia - always put 2 men in a watch tower
Gunny's team dropped two 120 Mortar shells into the barracks #1, walked it south into barracks #2, and dropped two more. Marginalia -120's make a big crater The infiltrators blew the mortar pit to hell with a satchel charge and Leo rocketed the parked BMPs in case they had crews. The other member of their team put 40mm HE into the other guard towers and engaged the standing guard on top of the bunker. Once the bunker was suppressed, the grenadiers eliminated their fighting position.
There wasn't much to do when the main force arrived. Almost all of the camp guards inside the wire were killed when their barracks blew, we took two prisoners out of the roving guard. The men outside the wire decided not to come back..I figure some took a look and decided they had pressing business elsewhere. The camp commandant, inside the bunker, was the last hold-out. We gave them a choice, come out in the next five minutes or we'd burn them out with their own fuel stocks. The commandant took his own life. His second in command and their women came out.
Cap had all the prisoners, including the women, stuffed into the camp's punishment cells for their own safety.
I wish I could write that we all then went back to Krakow and were happy
Marginalia - this is in the logs, I don't need to do it
There were only about 100 prisoners in the camp, we had been told there should be around 300, our missing 200 had been sold. The commandants records showed he'd been paid a hefty price; gold, tank parts, and luxuries, by a Col. Czarny. The men had been marched off to Warsaw as slaves less than two weeks ago. Two fuckin' weeks. Marginalia -they'd planned to restock by taking the column and killing the guards "restocking" he called it
While Cap was chasing that down, several fights had to be broken up among the newly freed prisoners. Many of the prisoners were accused of collaboration with the enemy, having betrayed escape attempts, and other crimes against the rest of the prisoners. Cap had the men separated and those accused put under guard. After giving us instructions to loot the camp and strip the fields, she began questioning the men, accusers and accused both, and combing through the records with Leo.
On the 27th, she called us together with NCOs from the liberated troops. She told us of the statements she had gathered and the records that collaborated it. She told us of other statements that she had received and what wasn't collaborated by the camp records. Forty-two of the man we had just freed were guilty of collaborating with the enemy, willful treason, and had received special compensation for it. Eight others were guilty of serious infractions or abuse against other prisoners. Four men of the column had committed similar crimes.
Her face was tight when she told us. Stress, anger, grief? Probably all three. We didn't have the means or the manpower to bring such a group to proper authority. The sergeants were to have the men draw lots and form firing squads. The forty-two were to be executed. The other twelve would be dishonorably discharged and abandoned with the soviets we had captured. The results of her summary courts-martial were entered in the unit log. Sentence would be carried out immediately.
We marched them out of the camp into the southern fields, already stripped by us solider locusts, and formed them into a line. All of the men not required for base security were formed up. The charges wee read, shots fired, and men fell. We left hem there, unburied and unforgiven
Marginalia -fuck them all for making us do it
The soviet prisoners and their twelve friends were loaded into a truck. The OTs escorted them an hours drive west. They were abandoned in a small nameless village. They get to live. I hope never to see them again.
We finished inventory and requisition on the afternoon of the 28th. Cached what we could in the surrounding woods and spillt the rest. Our column, 268 strong, marched out of the morning of the 29th.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
035: Debrief
Mid-thirties, maybe. His face is loose with the hanging flesh left after sudden weight lose. A ragged, half-healed scar start above his right eye before moving off to his hair line. His fatigues are ragged and dirty with large tear down the right leg. On his left foot is a over-large boot stuffed with rags. On the right a sneaker. Despite the wear he still carries himself with strength.
"Thank you, ma'am. Gunnery Sergeant Larry Walters. I'm ranking NCO.
Could you repeat that, ma'am? My hearing isn't what it was. Too much time with the arty.
Yes, after the encirclement we fell back into Kalisz. We held them for three long days. By the night of the third we were out of everything; food, ammo, hell, hope too. We were surrounded on three sides by Russians and the Poles were to our north. We weren't getting out and they tightened the ring every day.
The Major decided it was time to talk to one of them. He went out to the Poles and negotiated our surrender. Reckon it kept us all from being killed. They seperated out the officers and the women. I didn't see any of them after that. Didn't hear anything either.
They took what fancied them off of us. I doubt more than one in ten still has their issue boots. The Poles, at least, dumped their rejects back on us so almost everyone is shod.
We've been worked hard ever since, ma'am. Graves detail first. Then farms around Kalisz and Lodz.
A few men tried to escape. There were reprisals for that. Mostly beatings or food held back for a day, not that we were getting much. A few men were shot out of hand as warnings. Any escapees they caught were hung, if they hadn't already been shot.
No, ma'am, I counciled them not to try. I know it is our duty to try to escape. To continue the fight by any means possible, but not there. Too many enemies on the ground and we're too closely watched.
About five days ago they moved us east. They penny packeted work teams on the way. Ten here, ten there, we're down fifty. If you have a map, I can show you were. We learned we were being taken to Lublin, more work details and harvest.
Combat status? About half of us would be ready with a day's rest, good food and a weapon. I would only count about half of those as experienced troops. The rest were support; logistics, drivers, cooks, mechs and techs. The rest of the group needs more than a day. We've got casualties; both physical and head cases.
You'll want to watch the drivers of the wagons closely. They're trustees. ***Spits*** Except for Joachim and Rodriguez. I told them to volunteer. It was as inside as I could get."
*******
He could be someone's grandfather. Thinning gray hair in a widow's peak. Neat beard, recently trimmed back. What could be laugh lines around his eyes. If they weren't such sad blue things. Probably the pain from his arm. Doc tells me he broke his Clavicle and Humerus after he fell from his horse during the ambush. This, then, was their commanding officer. Doesn't speak a lick of English. I need Leo to translate.
"Jasha Gurin, Mladshiy leytenant (2nd Lt, he's a butterbar -- Leo)
I was in command of the detachment. Please, Kapitan, how are my boys?
Yes, most of them were, boys, and a few old men. All they could spare to take the Americans back east.
No, I think no else wanted to do it, so it was given to us. We're all remnants or replacements.
Yes, I was a carpenter before my unit got called up. It was a mobilization-only division. Long gone now. We're replacements now.
Yes, we're expected in two days at Camp 4-4. At least I've been told we're expected. There was a radio and truck battery in one of the wagons. I was instructed to make contact well clear of their perimeter. I was to leave as many of my prisoners as required, pick-up any prisoners as required, and head to Lublin the next day.
We were issued sufficient food to get there and take a hundred prisoners on to Lublin in the next four days. I was not authorized to requisition additional food from the camp. I have no details on the camp personnel or security arrangements.
I understand. If you have any questions about Kalisz or Lodz you just have to ask.
Thank you. Kapitan, may I see my boys now?"
"Thank you, ma'am. Gunnery Sergeant Larry Walters. I'm ranking NCO.
Could you repeat that, ma'am? My hearing isn't what it was. Too much time with the arty.
Yes, after the encirclement we fell back into Kalisz. We held them for three long days. By the night of the third we were out of everything; food, ammo, hell, hope too. We were surrounded on three sides by Russians and the Poles were to our north. We weren't getting out and they tightened the ring every day.
The Major decided it was time to talk to one of them. He went out to the Poles and negotiated our surrender. Reckon it kept us all from being killed. They seperated out the officers and the women. I didn't see any of them after that. Didn't hear anything either.
They took what fancied them off of us. I doubt more than one in ten still has their issue boots. The Poles, at least, dumped their rejects back on us so almost everyone is shod.
We've been worked hard ever since, ma'am. Graves detail first. Then farms around Kalisz and Lodz.
A few men tried to escape. There were reprisals for that. Mostly beatings or food held back for a day, not that we were getting much. A few men were shot out of hand as warnings. Any escapees they caught were hung, if they hadn't already been shot.
No, ma'am, I counciled them not to try. I know it is our duty to try to escape. To continue the fight by any means possible, but not there. Too many enemies on the ground and we're too closely watched.
About five days ago they moved us east. They penny packeted work teams on the way. Ten here, ten there, we're down fifty. If you have a map, I can show you were. We learned we were being taken to Lublin, more work details and harvest.
Combat status? About half of us would be ready with a day's rest, good food and a weapon. I would only count about half of those as experienced troops. The rest were support; logistics, drivers, cooks, mechs and techs. The rest of the group needs more than a day. We've got casualties; both physical and head cases.
You'll want to watch the drivers of the wagons closely. They're trustees. ***Spits*** Except for Joachim and Rodriguez. I told them to volunteer. It was as inside as I could get."
*******
He could be someone's grandfather. Thinning gray hair in a widow's peak. Neat beard, recently trimmed back. What could be laugh lines around his eyes. If they weren't such sad blue things. Probably the pain from his arm. Doc tells me he broke his Clavicle and Humerus after he fell from his horse during the ambush. This, then, was their commanding officer. Doesn't speak a lick of English. I need Leo to translate.
"Jasha Gurin, Mladshiy leytenant (2nd Lt, he's a butterbar -- Leo)
I was in command of the detachment. Please, Kapitan, how are my boys?
Yes, most of them were, boys, and a few old men. All they could spare to take the Americans back east.
No, I think no else wanted to do it, so it was given to us. We're all remnants or replacements.
Yes, I was a carpenter before my unit got called up. It was a mobilization-only division. Long gone now. We're replacements now.
Yes, we're expected in two days at Camp 4-4. At least I've been told we're expected. There was a radio and truck battery in one of the wagons. I was instructed to make contact well clear of their perimeter. I was to leave as many of my prisoners as required, pick-up any prisoners as required, and head to Lublin the next day.
We were issued sufficient food to get there and take a hundred prisoners on to Lublin in the next four days. I was not authorized to requisition additional food from the camp. I have no details on the camp personnel or security arrangements.
I understand. If you have any questions about Kalisz or Lodz you just have to ask.
Thank you. Kapitan, may I see my boys now?"
034: A Well Laid Ambush
Captain Paterson, August 23rd, 2000
A well laid ambush is a thing of beauty. We found a spot where the road rose up to meet a slanting ridgeline in the forest. With two days we had plenty of time to dig in the OTs so only their turrets cleared the ridge and camoflage them as well as prepare and camoflage fihting positions for all the dismounts. Leo, I placed forward in an OP near the edge of the forest, to give us a good warning once the column appeared. Alphabit placed charges on trees to block the road at the ridgeline as well as about 200 meters further back. The plan would be to let the vanguard slip through our net and drop the trees to block the column. Everyone was warned to be sure of their shots. Wild fire would get many of our own men killed. Then we waited.
The column was spotted towards the end of the second day. They were pushing their charges hard up the road. I expect they wanted to make the woods before nightfall for the shelter it would provide against the wind and rain. Leo reported there were onlt about 20 guards riding horseback and 6 wagons piled high as well as the expected prisoners. It looked as if they were roped or chained to prevent their escape. I gave my troop last minute instructions and settled behind my M60.
The van, 3 men on horseback, were only paying cursory attention. They trotted right through our positions without a second glance. We should give thanks it was the end of a day of hard travel and not a fresh start for them.
The column followed them a hundred meters back. As per our plans the troop sighted on their sectors, prioritizing primary and secondary targets. Doc, Alphabit and Moon-pie would start with the forward guard and work their way down the right side. One of George's men and I would work our way down the right. The KPVs, manned by Eddie and another of George's men, would take priority targets, anyone armed with an RPG or a wagon with a heavy weapon mounted on it. They weren't to go full auto unless things went to shit.
Just as the forward edge of the column was about to crest the ridge, I dropped the trees on them. Gunfire erupted, taking the lead elements down quickly. The sharp krak of the KPV ripping men from horseback. They tried to fight back, dropping to the ground and returning blind fire, but it did them little good. Soon, all the near targets were cleared and we had worked our way to the limits of visibility. That's when we began to improvise and people got hurt.
There was a lull in the firing. Doc gave a bloodcurdling yell, rose, and ran right at the column. Alphabit, cursing her soundly, followed. She must have caught half a dozen rounds in that wild charge before collapsing. Alphabit, took cover behind a stump and returned fire.
Meanwhile, I had to shift further down the ridge, engaging a few men trying to flank the ridge. I didn't have the time to set up good aimed shots. Instead I let the M60 roar, swept their position with automatic fire, and let the consequences hang. More than one fell limp and the few survivors went to ground. Short bursts sawed through the brush claiming another while their fire pounded the dirt and sky.
Moon-Pie was the only one of us thinking clearly by that point. He threw out smoke grenades to cover the prisoners before advancing among them. A quick tap on the shoulder and shouted commands got the forward groups moving back to safety. With the rest of us running around he took charge of the immediate mission. Another grenade flew out of the cloud as he repeated his orders to the next group.
This was all too much for the guards. Those at the back of the column remounted or just ran down the road. All I know was there was a bunch of nothing by the time Moonie and I got to the rear of the column.
Later, Leo told me that he accounted for another six with the SVD. Only two escaped, on foot, because they'd dropped their weapons as they ran. He didn't think it was sporting.
Alphabit helped a shaken Doc over to us. Her face was awash with blood. Her helmet sporting a few new holes. I could have chewed her out then, but cries of "Medic" were rising in the air, so I set her off to do her job.
Amazingly, Doc was the worst hurt in the squad. The rest of us escaped largely unscathed. Casualties were also light among the column, one man crushed by a supply wagon, another three dead of gunshot, and about half a dozen injured. One of the guards I'd chased down had surrendered after his comrades fell. Another five were still breathing after we treated our own. More importantly, only two of the cavalry mounts had to be put down and none of the draft horses.
I've got to get these soldiers off the road into shelter, fed, and organized. Busy night ahead, busy night.
A well laid ambush is a thing of beauty. We found a spot where the road rose up to meet a slanting ridgeline in the forest. With two days we had plenty of time to dig in the OTs so only their turrets cleared the ridge and camoflage them as well as prepare and camoflage fihting positions for all the dismounts. Leo, I placed forward in an OP near the edge of the forest, to give us a good warning once the column appeared. Alphabit placed charges on trees to block the road at the ridgeline as well as about 200 meters further back. The plan would be to let the vanguard slip through our net and drop the trees to block the column. Everyone was warned to be sure of their shots. Wild fire would get many of our own men killed. Then we waited.
The column was spotted towards the end of the second day. They were pushing their charges hard up the road. I expect they wanted to make the woods before nightfall for the shelter it would provide against the wind and rain. Leo reported there were onlt about 20 guards riding horseback and 6 wagons piled high as well as the expected prisoners. It looked as if they were roped or chained to prevent their escape. I gave my troop last minute instructions and settled behind my M60.
The van, 3 men on horseback, were only paying cursory attention. They trotted right through our positions without a second glance. We should give thanks it was the end of a day of hard travel and not a fresh start for them.
The column followed them a hundred meters back. As per our plans the troop sighted on their sectors, prioritizing primary and secondary targets. Doc, Alphabit and Moon-pie would start with the forward guard and work their way down the right side. One of George's men and I would work our way down the right. The KPVs, manned by Eddie and another of George's men, would take priority targets, anyone armed with an RPG or a wagon with a heavy weapon mounted on it. They weren't to go full auto unless things went to shit.
Just as the forward edge of the column was about to crest the ridge, I dropped the trees on them. Gunfire erupted, taking the lead elements down quickly. The sharp krak of the KPV ripping men from horseback. They tried to fight back, dropping to the ground and returning blind fire, but it did them little good. Soon, all the near targets were cleared and we had worked our way to the limits of visibility. That's when we began to improvise and people got hurt.
There was a lull in the firing. Doc gave a bloodcurdling yell, rose, and ran right at the column. Alphabit, cursing her soundly, followed. She must have caught half a dozen rounds in that wild charge before collapsing. Alphabit, took cover behind a stump and returned fire.
Meanwhile, I had to shift further down the ridge, engaging a few men trying to flank the ridge. I didn't have the time to set up good aimed shots. Instead I let the M60 roar, swept their position with automatic fire, and let the consequences hang. More than one fell limp and the few survivors went to ground. Short bursts sawed through the brush claiming another while their fire pounded the dirt and sky.
Moon-Pie was the only one of us thinking clearly by that point. He threw out smoke grenades to cover the prisoners before advancing among them. A quick tap on the shoulder and shouted commands got the forward groups moving back to safety. With the rest of us running around he took charge of the immediate mission. Another grenade flew out of the cloud as he repeated his orders to the next group.
This was all too much for the guards. Those at the back of the column remounted or just ran down the road. All I know was there was a bunch of nothing by the time Moonie and I got to the rear of the column.
Later, Leo told me that he accounted for another six with the SVD. Only two escaped, on foot, because they'd dropped their weapons as they ran. He didn't think it was sporting.
Alphabit helped a shaken Doc over to us. Her face was awash with blood. Her helmet sporting a few new holes. I could have chewed her out then, but cries of "Medic" were rising in the air, so I set her off to do her job.
Amazingly, Doc was the worst hurt in the squad. The rest of us escaped largely unscathed. Casualties were also light among the column, one man crushed by a supply wagon, another three dead of gunshot, and about half a dozen injured. One of the guards I'd chased down had surrendered after his comrades fell. Another five were still breathing after we treated our own. More importantly, only two of the cavalry mounts had to be put down and none of the draft horses.
I've got to get these soldiers off the road into shelter, fed, and organized. Busy night ahead, busy night.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Admin Posting
I shall now redirect your attention to here; Twilight 2000: Transmissions in the Clear
Player have been given authorial access and can post in character thoughts, discussions and other items as they please. Anyone reading who would like to post a story or Twilight bit of background contact Chris through the comments section.
Later Days
Player have been given authorial access and can post in character thoughts, discussions and other items as they please. Anyone reading who would like to post a story or Twilight bit of background contact Chris through the comments section.
Later Days
Monday, October 31, 2011
033: Planning Session
Eddie's Journal August 21st, 2000
Cap, Doc and Lou left last night to do a bit of recon. They planned to stay overnight at Camp Pow and view the watch changes and morning roll. Get a solid idea of their competancy and their numbers before they drew up plans. It must have gone well, cuz they came back in one piece. Cap told us top give her 4 hours and wake her with a strong pot. Since I won't drop one on her, I'll raid the MRE stash for coffee and sugar instead.
Note to tell Cap; we're real low on sundries from the MREs
Captain Paterson
The discussions been rolling around the group for about half an hour now. We keep getting hung up on the numbers. I'm letting Doc get into details about the prisoners we observed and her inferences about their treatment and health. Gives me time to get my thoughts organized again.
I lean in as she finishes, "Thank you Major. Llewellyn, Leonid, how about you."
Llewellyn takes the lead, Leo leans back and nods along as he agrees. "Cap, no doubt Leo and I can get in there. We could move up the stream divert, cut the fence, and make like sneaky snake. But that's still two of us, three if we took George, against nearly seventy of them. I could kill their power. Make a lot of noise. I'm awesome, I admit, but not that good."
"Could we all make it over the wires?"
"I can't get us all through the wires. You're all not good enough and their perimeter security is good. The OTs might rip through the fence line until the wires fouled the wheels. The Bump would clear it clean, but its back in Krakow. Anyway, the sound of engines would be heard far before we got to the fences. Those BMPs they have would make short work of ours. Nope, I'm not seeing it."
Alphabit speaks up all eager, "Just get me inside. I'll blow up their barracks! Dynamite, C4. Set some charges and KABOOM you're down to managable numbers."
Leo, "No, my friend, we get you close, but not inside. Their tight like your..."
Llewellyn, "Not a a chance in hell."
Alphabit gives us a look like we kicked his puppy.
Llewellyn starts back up. "Look Captain, I do green ops, not black ones. Find the enemy and phone it in so the tankers and arty can finish the job. Then I go home for steak and eggs."
He looks towards heaven, "I could really use a steak, rare-rare. Anyway, we got plenty of tools, but not enough workers. Now George over here said the convoy might have, what, 20 or 30 guards and no armor. That's doable. We take'em by ambush and we're done. That gives us what, George, two hundred odd vets. We give'em a meal, split out the guns and come back here. Then we straighten this place out. What ya think?"
George starts in with some perfunctory objections. I talk over him. "Now that's making sense. Let me see that map again." Trace the expected route back. "They're walking, they shouldn't be any further than here. They're making what, 20 to 30 klicks a day. We can get to this forested area and still have two days to set things up."
George, "Think they'll stick to that route?"
"Is there anything you aren't telling us about the prisoner column? So, no, if they want any chance of making the schedule you've laid out then they have to be on these roads or near to it."
I stand and wave at my troop. "Let's pack it up. We've got enough light left to move and find a good place to overnight. Tomorrow we got some killing to plan."
Doc gives me a grin, a cackle, and a double-thumbs up before rushing off to pack. The others share a mixture of relieved and determination. Eddie looks a little sick, but he's staring after Doc, so I let it slide. Hell, even George looks like he's with it though we're trashing his ops plan in the process.
We'll be back here, just wait till next week.
Cap, Doc and Lou left last night to do a bit of recon. They planned to stay overnight at Camp Pow and view the watch changes and morning roll. Get a solid idea of their competancy and their numbers before they drew up plans. It must have gone well, cuz they came back in one piece. Cap told us top give her 4 hours and wake her with a strong pot. Since I won't drop one on her, I'll raid the MRE stash for coffee and sugar instead.
Note to tell Cap; we're real low on sundries from the MREs
Captain Paterson
The discussions been rolling around the group for about half an hour now. We keep getting hung up on the numbers. I'm letting Doc get into details about the prisoners we observed and her inferences about their treatment and health. Gives me time to get my thoughts organized again.
I lean in as she finishes, "Thank you Major. Llewellyn, Leonid, how about you."
Llewellyn takes the lead, Leo leans back and nods along as he agrees. "Cap, no doubt Leo and I can get in there. We could move up the stream divert, cut the fence, and make like sneaky snake. But that's still two of us, three if we took George, against nearly seventy of them. I could kill their power. Make a lot of noise. I'm awesome, I admit, but not that good."
"Could we all make it over the wires?"
"I can't get us all through the wires. You're all not good enough and their perimeter security is good. The OTs might rip through the fence line until the wires fouled the wheels. The Bump would clear it clean, but its back in Krakow. Anyway, the sound of engines would be heard far before we got to the fences. Those BMPs they have would make short work of ours. Nope, I'm not seeing it."
Alphabit speaks up all eager, "Just get me inside. I'll blow up their barracks! Dynamite, C4. Set some charges and KABOOM you're down to managable numbers."
Leo, "No, my friend, we get you close, but not inside. Their tight like your..."
Llewellyn, "Not a a chance in hell."
Alphabit gives us a look like we kicked his puppy.
Llewellyn starts back up. "Look Captain, I do green ops, not black ones. Find the enemy and phone it in so the tankers and arty can finish the job. Then I go home for steak and eggs."
He looks towards heaven, "I could really use a steak, rare-rare. Anyway, we got plenty of tools, but not enough workers. Now George over here said the convoy might have, what, 20 or 30 guards and no armor. That's doable. We take'em by ambush and we're done. That gives us what, George, two hundred odd vets. We give'em a meal, split out the guns and come back here. Then we straighten this place out. What ya think?"
George starts in with some perfunctory objections. I talk over him. "Now that's making sense. Let me see that map again." Trace the expected route back. "They're walking, they shouldn't be any further than here. They're making what, 20 to 30 klicks a day. We can get to this forested area and still have two days to set things up."
George, "Think they'll stick to that route?"
"Is there anything you aren't telling us about the prisoner column? So, no, if they want any chance of making the schedule you've laid out then they have to be on these roads or near to it."
I stand and wave at my troop. "Let's pack it up. We've got enough light left to move and find a good place to overnight. Tomorrow we got some killing to plan."
Doc gives me a grin, a cackle, and a double-thumbs up before rushing off to pack. The others share a mixture of relieved and determination. Eddie looks a little sick, but he's staring after Doc, so I let it slide. Hell, even George looks like he's with it though we're trashing his ops plan in the process.
We'll be back here, just wait till next week.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
032: Road Trips and Recon
Eddie's Journal, August 18th, 2000
Cap, George, Leo, Lou and Doc all put their heads together today and decided we're on a rescue mission. Guess who got left out. Then, predictably, orders came down the line.
We're on a tight schedule to take over a campful of POWs before another group of POWs comes through enroute to Lublin. I had a madhouse day working on the OT and BMP while others filled our fuel trailer, spare drums, set up security details and did some last minute shopping. Alphabit scored some white paint for me so I marked up my OT. Christened it the "Damnation Alley" after that mini-series I saw way back when. Still no Tommygun.
The officers spent the day crunching logistics. I could have skipped the BMP work. Our Bump is a thirsty beast. It would gulp down the same ammount of fuel as our OT, the 2-1/2 and the other OT our firends liberated. Even with a second fuel trailer we would have been cutting it close. Instead we're taking all wheels.
Even though we'll be gone, Cap has Arun and jana straw-bossing the workers. She's leaving them with enough script to cover a two week trip. Arun's supposed to get some security together as well, bue we're not leaving desirable behind.
Early start tomorrow.
Eddie's Jounral, August 19th, 2000
Cap's having me add a logo to the truck. I christen thee the "Red Shift Special".
All day on the road. We went east out of Krakow following the river road. Saw more than our share of refugees heading west. Decided to pass them by. Turns out we shouldn't have becasue pretty soon we saw thick smoke rising in the distance.
We slowed our approach. Found a good hidey spot and dismounted Lou and Leo. They did a foot sweep to see what's the matter. Lou radioed back that they had a large group of men and a T-72 heading out north from a burning village. We waited till they were gone, disapearing into a copse of trees some klicks to the north before continuing on. They'd hit that town hard. There were dead in the streets and buildings burning.
We found the same in another town many klicks further up the road. Except much older. Lou says maybe a week.
Cap kept working her jaw, but didn't say anything.
Once we diverted north into the hills, you can't call this mountains, the trip was uneventful. We just had to divert around one site and do a little off-road work.
Cap figures we're within 10 klicks of the camp. Lou and George are going to stretch their legs in the morning.
---------------
Llewellyn Chilson, August 19th, 2000
"Yeah, Leo go ahead and pack that long arm of yours. Cap, I'll take George as well. You any good at sneakin'?"
"Good enough, not at light on..."
"Look George, I don't care what you heard about me at the commisary or the barracks, but Mama Chilson didn't raise no poof."
"Er, ok. Yeah, I'm plenty good at sneaking."
Spook boy can't take a joke. I trust Leo to have his shit straight. Not bad for a rooskie, but George, I double check his kit. For a desk jockey he's got it all laid out right and tamped down properly. No battle rattle from him. We'll see how he moves on the trail. I'll turn this car around if he fucks up. No regrets.
We head out into the morning mists. Ten klicks to the camp if Cap's done the navigating right. If the map's any good. If George is right about where it is in the first place. Lots of ifs. I could stop and ask directions, but I don't feel like killing some crapsack farmer today.
Close to four hours when we clear the woods. I am mighty pleased that this car didn't get turned around. And all the "ifs" turned out right. Across the roadway a spur climbs up into the hills. Bit of woodsmoke on the wind and the faint sound of a generator chugging away. That's a big one if we can hear it from here. We wait and watch.
Between the three of us we pick out a number of OPs scattered about. They've got the approaches well covered on this side of the camp. Their field craft is crap. Or they're feeling safe. Either way, bonus points to us.
George is playing cartographer while Leo and I work our jaws. He figures we can head off east a ways and cross the road. Use that big stretch of woods to get closer. It'll put us a little behind schedule, but hell, I didn't come this far not to get a good look.
The camp keeps partols closer in. We hear them a long ways off. Lousy noise discipline. One almost stumbles over us in the woods. Clumsy, stupid fuckers. We stalk them back to the trail they're using. Wait as they continue on out then follow their back trail in. Fast, clean, and even George keeps it up. Trail splits once, heading out to another OP on the wood's east end, before coming to an end. And what a view we have.
George gets busy with his pencils. Leo keeps an eye out. I count heads. We'll work this out once we're back with the Captain, but I'm not feeling good with this.
Cap, George, Leo, Lou and Doc all put their heads together today and decided we're on a rescue mission. Guess who got left out. Then, predictably, orders came down the line.
We're on a tight schedule to take over a campful of POWs before another group of POWs comes through enroute to Lublin. I had a madhouse day working on the OT and BMP while others filled our fuel trailer, spare drums, set up security details and did some last minute shopping. Alphabit scored some white paint for me so I marked up my OT. Christened it the "Damnation Alley" after that mini-series I saw way back when. Still no Tommygun.
The officers spent the day crunching logistics. I could have skipped the BMP work. Our Bump is a thirsty beast. It would gulp down the same ammount of fuel as our OT, the 2-1/2 and the other OT our firends liberated. Even with a second fuel trailer we would have been cutting it close. Instead we're taking all wheels.
Even though we'll be gone, Cap has Arun and jana straw-bossing the workers. She's leaving them with enough script to cover a two week trip. Arun's supposed to get some security together as well, bue we're not leaving desirable behind.
Early start tomorrow.
Eddie's Jounral, August 19th, 2000
Cap's having me add a logo to the truck. I christen thee the "Red Shift Special".
All day on the road. We went east out of Krakow following the river road. Saw more than our share of refugees heading west. Decided to pass them by. Turns out we shouldn't have becasue pretty soon we saw thick smoke rising in the distance.
We slowed our approach. Found a good hidey spot and dismounted Lou and Leo. They did a foot sweep to see what's the matter. Lou radioed back that they had a large group of men and a T-72 heading out north from a burning village. We waited till they were gone, disapearing into a copse of trees some klicks to the north before continuing on. They'd hit that town hard. There were dead in the streets and buildings burning.
We found the same in another town many klicks further up the road. Except much older. Lou says maybe a week.
Cap kept working her jaw, but didn't say anything.
Once we diverted north into the hills, you can't call this mountains, the trip was uneventful. We just had to divert around one site and do a little off-road work.
Cap figures we're within 10 klicks of the camp. Lou and George are going to stretch their legs in the morning.
---------------
Llewellyn Chilson, August 19th, 2000
"Yeah, Leo go ahead and pack that long arm of yours. Cap, I'll take George as well. You any good at sneakin'?"
"Good enough, not at light on..."
"Look George, I don't care what you heard about me at the commisary or the barracks, but Mama Chilson didn't raise no poof."
"Er, ok. Yeah, I'm plenty good at sneaking."
Spook boy can't take a joke. I trust Leo to have his shit straight. Not bad for a rooskie, but George, I double check his kit. For a desk jockey he's got it all laid out right and tamped down properly. No battle rattle from him. We'll see how he moves on the trail. I'll turn this car around if he fucks up. No regrets.
We head out into the morning mists. Ten klicks to the camp if Cap's done the navigating right. If the map's any good. If George is right about where it is in the first place. Lots of ifs. I could stop and ask directions, but I don't feel like killing some crapsack farmer today.
Close to four hours when we clear the woods. I am mighty pleased that this car didn't get turned around. And all the "ifs" turned out right. Across the roadway a spur climbs up into the hills. Bit of woodsmoke on the wind and the faint sound of a generator chugging away. That's a big one if we can hear it from here. We wait and watch.
Between the three of us we pick out a number of OPs scattered about. They've got the approaches well covered on this side of the camp. Their field craft is crap. Or they're feeling safe. Either way, bonus points to us.
George is playing cartographer while Leo and I work our jaws. He figures we can head off east a ways and cross the road. Use that big stretch of woods to get closer. It'll put us a little behind schedule, but hell, I didn't come this far not to get a good look.
The camp keeps partols closer in. We hear them a long ways off. Lousy noise discipline. One almost stumbles over us in the woods. Clumsy, stupid fuckers. We stalk them back to the trail they're using. Wait as they continue on out then follow their back trail in. Fast, clean, and even George keeps it up. Trail splits once, heading out to another OP on the wood's east end, before coming to an end. And what a view we have.
George gets busy with his pencils. Leo keeps an eye out. I count heads. We'll work this out once we're back with the Captain, but I'm not feeling good with this.
 |
| "Alright, we approached from the south. They have a checkpoint in that cluster of buildings at the crossroads. We could see a few sentry posts. George marked them 'S' instead of OP like he should have. Hills and large stretches of woods all around. The camp itself is surrounded by grain fields, but they've got clear fields of fire all around the perimeter. There's doubtless more OPs on the other side of the camp. We'll find them on another trip." |
 |
| "Here's the set-up Cap. Perimeter is double chain-link filled with concertina wire. We got 5 watchtowers with MGs (brown corner aquares with the black lines). Looks like a good size mortar battery (the circles), 2 large barracks buildings and some small outbuildings (brown rectangles). That black square is a concrete bunker. The other black building is sheet metal. POW housing is in the tents (green). Orange cross-hatching indicates gardens. The squiggly black lines are power transmission wires. They have some sort of production facility in there. Just south of the concrete bunker is a generator building, 3 tanks for fuel storage and 3 covers for stills. We observed 5 deuce and a halfs, 2 BMPs amd a fricking tank. The tank seems to be down for maintenance, they've got the engine pulled apart Finally the stream cuts through the corner of the camp." |
Sunday, October 16, 2011
031: Morning After
"George", August 18th
Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy. I've got a hammer and a pot full of nine. Thread and needles and cloth to wrap the broken down MP5s. A pistol, PM Mak, in my pocket as a just in case. And a head with secrets.
I'm knocking and inquiring about odd jobs in the early morning hours. Do you need a pot patched? Can I darn some socks? Fix a torn seam? I take payment in trade or script. Clever fingered Garin Nowicki is known outside the old town. Not that it matters, few of the folk have script to trade, but it works me down to the American Block where work hammers are already ringing on the worst of the houses.
Captain Paterson thinks big. She's taken over an entire block, surveyed the houses and hired local labor. One team is taking apart the less stable structures while another is using the parts to fence off the back street of the block. She's saving all the glass she can and made it known she'll pay for large panes. Some of the more loose lipped in her command have talked about a greenhouse. If need be, she's ready to stay for the long haul.
Hope whoever inherits the grounds appreciates the work.
I'm challenged before I reach the front door by their techie, little Eddie Cutler. "I'm looking for work, George told me you're hiring."
He gives he a closer look, doesn't like what he sees, but motions me forward anyway. Once close he speaks quietly, "Man, didn't we see enough of you last night. What do you want?"
"I've got a delivery for your captain and information she'll need to take into your planning. You letting me in."
He indicates I'm to go before him and follows closely calling for Captain Paterson as soon as the door is closed. We follow her answer to the dining area where she's breaking fast with Doctor Miller and Lance Corporal Chillson. She's sitting in fatigue pants and a muscle shirt. I can see the bruises running across her arms and face. They have the faded look of days old damage, not 8 hours old. Strange.
I set the bag on the table. "I've got a pair of MP5SD3 SMGs broken down in here. They have a built in suppression system that's better than anything you're going to find in Krakow. I also have 4 silencers and adapter kits for the M9 pistol. You'll have to provide those yourself. If I can have a seat I'll let you know what the future plans are."
She nods and points to a chair. "Chillson, look over the hardware."
"Captain, before I begin, do you want this to be a private conversation?"
"No, George, we're a small team. We all have need to know on this."
"Very good," I say with a smile. "I'll begin with some covert actions last night. Seems a group of Americans hijacked a OT-64 and were observed loading a very heavy footlocker into it by a survivor of the patrol. The OT was logged as crossing the Vistula by the western bridge checkpoint after presenting paperwork indicating they were conducting a sweep of the south side of the river. Needless to say, the OT and crew did not return to Krakow. With any luck the competition is going to chase that down. Still, you should keep a close eye out for them as they may decide you still know something or were of assistance to the Americans who left. The bit with Koko and the watch on your block was an inspired bit of luck. You're clear with the ORMO."
"Now, regarding our future plans for the item, if it should be recovered. There are three methods we can use to get the it back to friendly territory:
1. Krakow has a functional helicopter and a sizable cache of aviation fuel. A large enough team could capture the Wawel, hold off counterattack long enough for the aircraft to be prepped for flight. The Mi-17 helicopter could transport up to 24 from here to eastern Germany. This is our fastest and maybe safest option. We do have access to a pilot, no worries.
2. Our second option involves an old man and a river trip. Adam Rataj has discovered his son and family are still alive in Warsaw. He attempted to reach them by sailing down the Vistula. He lost a tugboat and nearly lost his life after being attacked on the river. The old man still has a boat and barge, but he can't get the Rada to support him in another attempt to get to Warsaw. He's been so persistent they've banned him from the building! He's looking for mercenaries to protect him on a trip to Warsaw and back. Instead, he'll be making his trip to Warsaw and you'll take that tug all the may to the mouth of the Vistula. If the boat's seaworthy, then you can hug the coast to Germany. If not you'll have the opportunity to trade it for one that is or steal one if needed.
3. The bad option. We stock you up with food, fuel and an extra OT-64. You travel back through the Margrave's lands and try to overland it to friendly lines. Intel indicates the front has dissolved into chaos which means even with uniforms and orders you're as likely to get killed by Reds as by friendly fire.
"In all the cases, the more men you have under your command, the better your odds of punching through. The camp is where you'll find your troops. I wouldn't give much for anyone whose been a prisoner for all this time, but the convoy we know is heading in from Lodz will contain veterans from the 5th ID. Those are them men you'll need to pull this off."
"So, I've got all day. What questions do you need answered?"
Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy. I've got a hammer and a pot full of nine. Thread and needles and cloth to wrap the broken down MP5s. A pistol, PM Mak, in my pocket as a just in case. And a head with secrets.
I'm knocking and inquiring about odd jobs in the early morning hours. Do you need a pot patched? Can I darn some socks? Fix a torn seam? I take payment in trade or script. Clever fingered Garin Nowicki is known outside the old town. Not that it matters, few of the folk have script to trade, but it works me down to the American Block where work hammers are already ringing on the worst of the houses.
Captain Paterson thinks big. She's taken over an entire block, surveyed the houses and hired local labor. One team is taking apart the less stable structures while another is using the parts to fence off the back street of the block. She's saving all the glass she can and made it known she'll pay for large panes. Some of the more loose lipped in her command have talked about a greenhouse. If need be, she's ready to stay for the long haul.
Hope whoever inherits the grounds appreciates the work.
I'm challenged before I reach the front door by their techie, little Eddie Cutler. "I'm looking for work, George told me you're hiring."
He gives he a closer look, doesn't like what he sees, but motions me forward anyway. Once close he speaks quietly, "Man, didn't we see enough of you last night. What do you want?"
"I've got a delivery for your captain and information she'll need to take into your planning. You letting me in."
He indicates I'm to go before him and follows closely calling for Captain Paterson as soon as the door is closed. We follow her answer to the dining area where she's breaking fast with Doctor Miller and Lance Corporal Chillson. She's sitting in fatigue pants and a muscle shirt. I can see the bruises running across her arms and face. They have the faded look of days old damage, not 8 hours old. Strange.
I set the bag on the table. "I've got a pair of MP5SD3 SMGs broken down in here. They have a built in suppression system that's better than anything you're going to find in Krakow. I also have 4 silencers and adapter kits for the M9 pistol. You'll have to provide those yourself. If I can have a seat I'll let you know what the future plans are."
She nods and points to a chair. "Chillson, look over the hardware."
"Captain, before I begin, do you want this to be a private conversation?"
"No, George, we're a small team. We all have need to know on this."
"Very good," I say with a smile. "I'll begin with some covert actions last night. Seems a group of Americans hijacked a OT-64 and were observed loading a very heavy footlocker into it by a survivor of the patrol. The OT was logged as crossing the Vistula by the western bridge checkpoint after presenting paperwork indicating they were conducting a sweep of the south side of the river. Needless to say, the OT and crew did not return to Krakow. With any luck the competition is going to chase that down. Still, you should keep a close eye out for them as they may decide you still know something or were of assistance to the Americans who left. The bit with Koko and the watch on your block was an inspired bit of luck. You're clear with the ORMO."
"Now, regarding our future plans for the item, if it should be recovered. There are three methods we can use to get the it back to friendly territory:
1. Krakow has a functional helicopter and a sizable cache of aviation fuel. A large enough team could capture the Wawel, hold off counterattack long enough for the aircraft to be prepped for flight. The Mi-17 helicopter could transport up to 24 from here to eastern Germany. This is our fastest and maybe safest option. We do have access to a pilot, no worries.
2. Our second option involves an old man and a river trip. Adam Rataj has discovered his son and family are still alive in Warsaw. He attempted to reach them by sailing down the Vistula. He lost a tugboat and nearly lost his life after being attacked on the river. The old man still has a boat and barge, but he can't get the Rada to support him in another attempt to get to Warsaw. He's been so persistent they've banned him from the building! He's looking for mercenaries to protect him on a trip to Warsaw and back. Instead, he'll be making his trip to Warsaw and you'll take that tug all the may to the mouth of the Vistula. If the boat's seaworthy, then you can hug the coast to Germany. If not you'll have the opportunity to trade it for one that is or steal one if needed.
3. The bad option. We stock you up with food, fuel and an extra OT-64. You travel back through the Margrave's lands and try to overland it to friendly lines. Intel indicates the front has dissolved into chaos which means even with uniforms and orders you're as likely to get killed by Reds as by friendly fire.
"In all the cases, the more men you have under your command, the better your odds of punching through. The camp is where you'll find your troops. I wouldn't give much for anyone whose been a prisoner for all this time, but the convoy we know is heading in from Lodz will contain veterans from the 5th ID. Those are them men you'll need to pull this off."
"So, I've got all day. What questions do you need answered?"
030 Chinese Fire Drills
Eddie's Journal, August 17th, 2000
Do you remember cruising when you were growing up. You'd pack your friends into the one car between you that worked and just go driving. Eventually that got old and you'd start playing games like Chinese Fire Drill. You'd come up to a stop light and everybody would jump out of the car and race around it until that light changed. Then you'd pile back in before heading to the next light. Wash, rinse, repeat. It would irritate the hell out of the drivers stuck behind you. You never make the light on time. In the end, there'd be a load of jocks driving Dad's Caddie. When you played Fire Drill, they'd get out and smack you around. Well, that's been today.
We had our first fire drill with Doc. Performed another one at the house. Ran down to the Judicial College where Leo and Moonie did a third. Got a hold of Adom's men and did a fourth right back a the College. Somewhere in there a couple of sleepy guards got their throats slit, some papers got lifted, and we pissed off this muscle head named Koko.
He came with a 2x4, an attitude and about a dozen guys toting everything from pistols and shotguns to AKs. He said some choice words about us and when Leo tried to step in and do the talking he yelled that he wasn't talking to anyone but that big bitch. Cap was already running high and just hit the roof. While he's yelling about his guards, she's telling him he ought to be thankful for showing him who his incompetents were. They almost ended up throwing down right in the middle of the street. Instead, we're 'invited' back to the College that night. Him and Cap, in the pit, until one or the other goes down.
Lt Adom is trying to tell her nie, nein, nyet, fucking no! Cap just tells Koko to be ready. She's going to kick his ass. The big guy laughs and leaves.
The Lt's mouth is running a mile a minute as he tells her to leave town. Nobody gets into the ring with Koko and leaves unbroken. Yes, they're supposed to be able to signal a surrender, unless it is a deathmatch, but that doesn't mean Koko can't break you skull, crush your throat, gouge out your eyes, rip your sack, snap your lower back or a myriad of other permanent injuries before you get that surrender out. Cap just tells him to have somebody he trusts take care of the house, cause she's going to show him. And we're not going to get left out.
We set guards at the house and over the vehicles. Cap got to work on her hand-to-hand. We're waiting.
Eddie's Journal, August 18th, predawn
Don't want to see that again. Cap went a full minute with Koko in one of the most brutal bare knuckle fights I've ever seen. I'm not writing this to rah-rah, but if they hadn't thrown a bunch of weapons down there on the 30 second mark, she might have wore him down. He was fast and visciously strong, but she kept gettting inside his guard, pushing him hard, and never stopping the attack.
She called it off after he switched to a weapon and got two rib splitting whacks in with a club, knocking her to the ground, she'd only got one shot in to his off arm in the same time. I thought we would have to pull our hold-outs cuz Koko boy didn't want to stop. He came to his senses before that, but I think it was close.
So he's doing a Rocky impersonation while the Cap pulled herself to her feet, She gave this bright, sunny smile and thanked him for the exercise. Held out a hand to shake. He shook himself once, didn't take her hand, and limped to his side of the pit to exit. Cap walked over, waved us off, and climbed out over her own power. She held it together until we closed ranks and got her to a sideroom. She cursed that son of a bitch up one side and down the other while Doc took care of stitching up her head and wrapping her ribs. Privately, I bet she'll be back to normal in one to two days. I know Doc's taking notes for the disertation.
They let us go, no problems, after the show. They cleaned us up for a tidy amount on bets and got a bit from the locals who really wanted to see Koko get thrashed. Blood money for two guards far as I'm concerned.
Leo told us that a man had come up during the fight and told him the Cap had an appointment at the river side train station ASAP. Cap and all the rest of us thought that mighty suspicious. We ended up going anyway. If they want to tangle with 5 heavily armed, pissed off Amerikanskis that's their business.
No worries, instead it is our good friend George. He's got some work for us. I can't write up the details right now because, like every word out of George's mouth, it has to be vetted for operational security. Cap tore him a strip off of him for the mushroom game. GRU and KGB in Krakow hunting for the box and you're only telling us now! George had the decency to look chagrined. It's his bosses fault. Which got him another strip torn off cuz his boss isn't here and his ass isn't in the blast zone.
She told him we'd do it, but he needs to fork over more details before anything actual happens. We turned and left him sputtering in the dark.
At least Adom's friends in the 3rd regiment didn't let the house burn down.
Do you remember cruising when you were growing up. You'd pack your friends into the one car between you that worked and just go driving. Eventually that got old and you'd start playing games like Chinese Fire Drill. You'd come up to a stop light and everybody would jump out of the car and race around it until that light changed. Then you'd pile back in before heading to the next light. Wash, rinse, repeat. It would irritate the hell out of the drivers stuck behind you. You never make the light on time. In the end, there'd be a load of jocks driving Dad's Caddie. When you played Fire Drill, they'd get out and smack you around. Well, that's been today.
We had our first fire drill with Doc. Performed another one at the house. Ran down to the Judicial College where Leo and Moonie did a third. Got a hold of Adom's men and did a fourth right back a the College. Somewhere in there a couple of sleepy guards got their throats slit, some papers got lifted, and we pissed off this muscle head named Koko.
He came with a 2x4, an attitude and about a dozen guys toting everything from pistols and shotguns to AKs. He said some choice words about us and when Leo tried to step in and do the talking he yelled that he wasn't talking to anyone but that big bitch. Cap was already running high and just hit the roof. While he's yelling about his guards, she's telling him he ought to be thankful for showing him who his incompetents were. They almost ended up throwing down right in the middle of the street. Instead, we're 'invited' back to the College that night. Him and Cap, in the pit, until one or the other goes down.
Lt Adom is trying to tell her nie, nein, nyet, fucking no! Cap just tells Koko to be ready. She's going to kick his ass. The big guy laughs and leaves.
The Lt's mouth is running a mile a minute as he tells her to leave town. Nobody gets into the ring with Koko and leaves unbroken. Yes, they're supposed to be able to signal a surrender, unless it is a deathmatch, but that doesn't mean Koko can't break you skull, crush your throat, gouge out your eyes, rip your sack, snap your lower back or a myriad of other permanent injuries before you get that surrender out. Cap just tells him to have somebody he trusts take care of the house, cause she's going to show him. And we're not going to get left out.
We set guards at the house and over the vehicles. Cap got to work on her hand-to-hand. We're waiting.
Eddie's Journal, August 18th, predawn
Don't want to see that again. Cap went a full minute with Koko in one of the most brutal bare knuckle fights I've ever seen. I'm not writing this to rah-rah, but if they hadn't thrown a bunch of weapons down there on the 30 second mark, she might have wore him down. He was fast and visciously strong, but she kept gettting inside his guard, pushing him hard, and never stopping the attack.
She called it off after he switched to a weapon and got two rib splitting whacks in with a club, knocking her to the ground, she'd only got one shot in to his off arm in the same time. I thought we would have to pull our hold-outs cuz Koko boy didn't want to stop. He came to his senses before that, but I think it was close.
So he's doing a Rocky impersonation while the Cap pulled herself to her feet, She gave this bright, sunny smile and thanked him for the exercise. Held out a hand to shake. He shook himself once, didn't take her hand, and limped to his side of the pit to exit. Cap walked over, waved us off, and climbed out over her own power. She held it together until we closed ranks and got her to a sideroom. She cursed that son of a bitch up one side and down the other while Doc took care of stitching up her head and wrapping her ribs. Privately, I bet she'll be back to normal in one to two days. I know Doc's taking notes for the disertation.
They let us go, no problems, after the show. They cleaned us up for a tidy amount on bets and got a bit from the locals who really wanted to see Koko get thrashed. Blood money for two guards far as I'm concerned.
Leo told us that a man had come up during the fight and told him the Cap had an appointment at the river side train station ASAP. Cap and all the rest of us thought that mighty suspicious. We ended up going anyway. If they want to tangle with 5 heavily armed, pissed off Amerikanskis that's their business.
No worries, instead it is our good friend George. He's got some work for us. I can't write up the details right now because, like every word out of George's mouth, it has to be vetted for operational security. Cap tore him a strip off of him for the mushroom game. GRU and KGB in Krakow hunting for the box and you're only telling us now! George had the decency to look chagrined. It's his bosses fault. Which got him another strip torn off cuz his boss isn't here and his ass isn't in the blast zone.
She told him we'd do it, but he needs to fork over more details before anything actual happens. We turned and left him sputtering in the dark.
At least Adom's friends in the 3rd regiment didn't let the house burn down.
Friday, October 14, 2011
029 Q&A
Captain Paterson
By the time I can pull my disparate men together and get us across town I discover the Doc has the situation in hand. She's got 6 ORMO down on the ground outside the facility and Dr. Krol begging her not to kill them too. I have my troops take over guard duty, let the pukes stand up, and get the story from Doc. She's still running on an adrenelin high so the details get related loudly.
Of the six prisoners three react with honest shock, two look worried and the last, well he doesn't react at all. Cold fish. Time for the shit to flow.
I give them my opinions on what happens to those who threaten my people. The stories of how we handled the marauders have made the rounds. The three little Indians are quick to implicate Sarge and his buds. Sarge and his good friend roll over on the cold fishy. The two have a nice roll of script between them to back up the story.
Where are the patrols?
Lt Adom and a jeepful of Warta show. They had a nice view of Doc and I from one of the castle OPs. We have a working relationship so I give him the rough draft of kidnapping and corruption. He's got a thing about law and order so that gets him firmly on my side when the ORMO foot patrol shows with Jana single-handedly pushing their reluctant asses along.
Jana sees things well in hand and starts appologizing for bringing the ORMO as Adom and their patrol leader start tearing strips from one another about jurisdiction. I take the time to reassure her she preformed brilliantly before heading the shit storm off. The ORMO puke shuts right down when I flash the roll I took from their comrades. A scary rep is good to have as I 'politely' wonder what took him sooooo long to respond to a city facility. I use it to my advantage, suggest he split his patrol, part to resume ops at the facility and the rest to escort the prisoners to their HQ, before I looked through his pockets as well. We keep the cold fish.
That man's been waiting for his own opportunity. Once he haul his ass into the hospital and take him up to the unused fourth floor he knows it isn't coming. I can see the emotion leaching back into his body. Leo has told me half the secret to a successful interrogation is getting the prisoner to want to talk. Sometimes that involves pain, sometimes you use a soft approach, and other times they collapse when you remove hope. Leo lays down the options in his native Russian, our new friend replies in the same.
He's GRU and knows exactly how this could go down. He talks. They're after Mr. Box. The Americans stole it. Marauders killed the Americans. More Americans killed the marauders. Ergo, we have the box. Doc was an excellent target of oportunity, ferquently isolated from the group and a non-combatant.
Doc's hot headed enough to take that as a personal slight. So I praise her quick action and the denigrate the GRU's stupidity. She's smiling again.
Adom wants to know why they didn't come after Warta personnel. After all it was a joint op a the end. He assures Adom that they know Warta doesn't have it, and no, he doesn't know the source that came from. Our good friend has a mole on the hill.
So, after giving us all the background he can, stretching out the interrogation with the hope of an intervention, we come to important questions. He wants to hold that back, but time hasn't brought him any help. Leo doesn't have to get physical at all, just lean a bit, on that nonresistant hope. Ten man group, well seven now, operating out of the Collegium Juridicum.
Adom is quick to let us know the Collegium is the worst kept secret in Krakow. Black market medicine, drugs, booze, sex, gambling, blood sports, or whatever can be had there. All you need is gold or crisp script. Both Zygmund and Josefmaly know that it happens, but it is viewed as a necessary safety valve for citizens and undesirables alike. I ask Adom if he believes that and he answers, "Nits breed lice."
It is probably too late to catch them, but we're going to pay a visit anyway. Send a certain message if thye're still there and another if they're not. He'll run interference.
By the time I can pull my disparate men together and get us across town I discover the Doc has the situation in hand. She's got 6 ORMO down on the ground outside the facility and Dr. Krol begging her not to kill them too. I have my troops take over guard duty, let the pukes stand up, and get the story from Doc. She's still running on an adrenelin high so the details get related loudly.
Of the six prisoners three react with honest shock, two look worried and the last, well he doesn't react at all. Cold fish. Time for the shit to flow.
I give them my opinions on what happens to those who threaten my people. The stories of how we handled the marauders have made the rounds. The three little Indians are quick to implicate Sarge and his buds. Sarge and his good friend roll over on the cold fishy. The two have a nice roll of script between them to back up the story.
Where are the patrols?
Lt Adom and a jeepful of Warta show. They had a nice view of Doc and I from one of the castle OPs. We have a working relationship so I give him the rough draft of kidnapping and corruption. He's got a thing about law and order so that gets him firmly on my side when the ORMO foot patrol shows with Jana single-handedly pushing their reluctant asses along.
Jana sees things well in hand and starts appologizing for bringing the ORMO as Adom and their patrol leader start tearing strips from one another about jurisdiction. I take the time to reassure her she preformed brilliantly before heading the shit storm off. The ORMO puke shuts right down when I flash the roll I took from their comrades. A scary rep is good to have as I 'politely' wonder what took him sooooo long to respond to a city facility. I use it to my advantage, suggest he split his patrol, part to resume ops at the facility and the rest to escort the prisoners to their HQ, before I looked through his pockets as well. We keep the cold fish.
That man's been waiting for his own opportunity. Once he haul his ass into the hospital and take him up to the unused fourth floor he knows it isn't coming. I can see the emotion leaching back into his body. Leo has told me half the secret to a successful interrogation is getting the prisoner to want to talk. Sometimes that involves pain, sometimes you use a soft approach, and other times they collapse when you remove hope. Leo lays down the options in his native Russian, our new friend replies in the same.
He's GRU and knows exactly how this could go down. He talks. They're after Mr. Box. The Americans stole it. Marauders killed the Americans. More Americans killed the marauders. Ergo, we have the box. Doc was an excellent target of oportunity, ferquently isolated from the group and a non-combatant.
Doc's hot headed enough to take that as a personal slight. So I praise her quick action and the denigrate the GRU's stupidity. She's smiling again.
Adom wants to know why they didn't come after Warta personnel. After all it was a joint op a the end. He assures Adom that they know Warta doesn't have it, and no, he doesn't know the source that came from. Our good friend has a mole on the hill.
So, after giving us all the background he can, stretching out the interrogation with the hope of an intervention, we come to important questions. He wants to hold that back, but time hasn't brought him any help. Leo doesn't have to get physical at all, just lean a bit, on that nonresistant hope. Ten man group, well seven now, operating out of the Collegium Juridicum.
Adom is quick to let us know the Collegium is the worst kept secret in Krakow. Black market medicine, drugs, booze, sex, gambling, blood sports, or whatever can be had there. All you need is gold or crisp script. Both Zygmund and Josefmaly know that it happens, but it is viewed as a necessary safety valve for citizens and undesirables alike. I ask Adom if he believes that and he answers, "Nits breed lice."
It is probably too late to catch them, but we're going to pay a visit anyway. Send a certain message if thye're still there and another if they're not. He'll run interference.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
028: Kidnap
Doctor Alexandrea Miller, August 17th, 2000
I hate this. Hate it.
"Keep his leg straight."
Life boat rules. Triage.
"Cut the pant leg open."
Rationing. No F'ing X-Rays!
"Good, looks like a simple break. How does that feel?"
If I ever have one of the fuckers that started this under my knife... He'll be missing a few parts.
"I want you to pull, firm and steady. I'll let you know when it slips back into place. Ready?"
Hey, why did that guy just pass a roll of bills to our infirmary guard? Where is he going?
"Slowly release your grip. Think you can apply the splint?"
The safety coming off is loud in the room. "Major Miller?" He's speaking English and the russian accent is pronounced. The AKR steady in his hands.
"Yes." Wipe my hands on a towel. My pistol is clear across the room. My mistake, I didn't want a panicky patient to grab it.
"You will come with us." A second man is at the door, also armed. "We have questions."
"Oh Yeah! So?"
Insincere smile, "you answer quickly, truthfully, we let you go." The AKR waves around the room, my patient and Jana hold very still. "No one gets hurt."
"Oh, I understand all right mister. They stay here and I'll go."
"I glad we can come to understanding." He gestures towards the back of the exam room. "We go out back way. My comrade will follow once we leave. Now."
I'm first, mind racing, as we go down the hall. At the end is the emergency fire door. They aren't letting anyone go. But they want me, intact enough to talk. I slump my shoulders. Start top drag a bit. Cowed prisoner, that's me. F' them.
I push open the emergency door. No alarm, the electricity's off and the battery is long dead. Hold the end as I emerge into sunlight. Pause, sigh, feel the prod of the submachinegun in my back. Stumble forward and around the door. He starts to order me to stop as I throw my weight against the door and him.
He's stuck painfully between the jam and the door. His gun crushed close to his chest with the barrle sticking outside. I grab the barrel, release the door and pull for all I'm worth. He staggers into me. I stomp down on his instep, raising a howl, and twist from the waist. The AKR pops free as he falls. I jump back, reversing the gun, and line him up. Clamp the trigger, the gun fires once and he writhes.
There's shouting masculine from inside. A burst of gun fire. Bastards! I really liked that kid. I look down at my kidnapper. Toss my short hair back while giving him my best smile. I put one right between his legs. That gets a good scream high enough to be anyone, even a woman. Fuck you..
I can't get back inside so I take cover as best I can and wait for dumb fuck number two. He comes right through the door at a charge. Bet he figures his friend had to pop me not the other way around. Five rounds center of mass correct that assumption.
One each to the head. Pays to be sure.
----------
I come around the corner just in time to see a black brick of a car leave. I think about pouring the rest of the clip into it, but there's no telling who else might get hit. First, do no harm. To the bystanders anyway.
All the ORMO fucks are gone. I should get out of here before the authorities show up. But I can't not look into the exam room first. I have a responsibility there. More than one. Kaz, thepoor man with the broken leg, is dead. Jana is no where to be seen.
I grab by web vest and head up to the roof. The hand radio ought to reach the house. The big set is plugged into the box so we can keep an emergency channel open at all times. I'm not leaving without my apprentice.
I hate this. Hate it.
"Keep his leg straight."
Life boat rules. Triage.
"Cut the pant leg open."
Rationing. No F'ing X-Rays!
"Good, looks like a simple break. How does that feel?"
If I ever have one of the fuckers that started this under my knife... He'll be missing a few parts.
"I want you to pull, firm and steady. I'll let you know when it slips back into place. Ready?"
Hey, why did that guy just pass a roll of bills to our infirmary guard? Where is he going?
"Slowly release your grip. Think you can apply the splint?"
The safety coming off is loud in the room. "Major Miller?" He's speaking English and the russian accent is pronounced. The AKR steady in his hands.
"Yes." Wipe my hands on a towel. My pistol is clear across the room. My mistake, I didn't want a panicky patient to grab it.
"You will come with us." A second man is at the door, also armed. "We have questions."
"Oh Yeah! So?"
Insincere smile, "you answer quickly, truthfully, we let you go." The AKR waves around the room, my patient and Jana hold very still. "No one gets hurt."
"Oh, I understand all right mister. They stay here and I'll go."
"I glad we can come to understanding." He gestures towards the back of the exam room. "We go out back way. My comrade will follow once we leave. Now."
I'm first, mind racing, as we go down the hall. At the end is the emergency fire door. They aren't letting anyone go. But they want me, intact enough to talk. I slump my shoulders. Start top drag a bit. Cowed prisoner, that's me. F' them.
I push open the emergency door. No alarm, the electricity's off and the battery is long dead. Hold the end as I emerge into sunlight. Pause, sigh, feel the prod of the submachinegun in my back. Stumble forward and around the door. He starts to order me to stop as I throw my weight against the door and him.
He's stuck painfully between the jam and the door. His gun crushed close to his chest with the barrle sticking outside. I grab the barrel, release the door and pull for all I'm worth. He staggers into me. I stomp down on his instep, raising a howl, and twist from the waist. The AKR pops free as he falls. I jump back, reversing the gun, and line him up. Clamp the trigger, the gun fires once and he writhes.
There's shouting masculine from inside. A burst of gun fire. Bastards! I really liked that kid. I look down at my kidnapper. Toss my short hair back while giving him my best smile. I put one right between his legs. That gets a good scream high enough to be anyone, even a woman. Fuck you..
I can't get back inside so I take cover as best I can and wait for dumb fuck number two. He comes right through the door at a charge. Bet he figures his friend had to pop me not the other way around. Five rounds center of mass correct that assumption.
One each to the head. Pays to be sure.
----------
I come around the corner just in time to see a black brick of a car leave. I think about pouring the rest of the clip into it, but there's no telling who else might get hit. First, do no harm. To the bystanders anyway.
All the ORMO fucks are gone. I should get out of here before the authorities show up. But I can't not look into the exam room first. I have a responsibility there. More than one. Kaz, thepoor man with the broken leg, is dead. Jana is no where to be seen.
I grab by web vest and head up to the roof. The hand radio ought to reach the house. The big set is plugged into the box so we can keep an emergency channel open at all times. I'm not leaving without my apprentice.
027: Down Time
Ed writes,
August 16th, 2000
It's nice to have a week with no one shooting at us, ripping us off or dicking around. We've hired a crew to work on the house and tear down a few of the neighboring ones that aren't safe or really block the view. We get to straw boss rather than sweat. I like.
Captain's chief spy, Arun, was released from Dr. Krol's care. She paid well for his treatment and offered him a job with us. He used to be an accountant type with the roads department here in Poland. He's taking over a bit of the supply side of things at the house. He helped the Cap pull together the work crew from folks he knew out in the camps.
Each of us got some liberty, in a rotation.
Leo brought back a string of fish from the riverside.
Yummy, wonder how many PCBs we're chomping down. "And they're good for the compost pile we're starting." Ugh.
Lleywellan decided to get some hunting in north of Krakow. He took Doc and Arun with him. Wanted to see if the new guy still rememberd how to shoot from his mandatory stint back in the day. They took a boar! While Doc and A. butchered it he went off on his ownsome for a second try and found a cow. Like a real cow. Moo. Says he walked right up to it and put a rope around the neck. Milk, it does a body good. Once it gets back up to weight I'll run the GC past the pail. Just to be sure.
Donald and I went shopping. I found a box of guages salvaged off some armored vehicles. I took the whole box, if I'm lucky half will work. Luck was with me, there was a CRT and disassembled joystick at the bottom. I might be able to get the ATGM station functional.
I also spent some time looking for a souvenier. I know were getting home and by God I want something unique. Everybody has an AK or Makarov if they want one. I got my sights set on one of those Sov. Tommyguns with the wood stock and drum mag. Now that's cool. I could hang it over the door and say, "I took that in the war!" Take it down on the Fourth and run a drum or two through it. Haven't found one yet, but there's a guy who knows a guy. We'll see in a few days.
The techies, that's Leo, Donald and I if you're keeping score, are going to try to repair the BMP tomorrow. I already told Leo and Donald since neither one has any electronics experience they'll be doing the drivers position. I get the ATGM panel. Hope it is just the CRT so I can get it wrapped fast and give the others encouraging advice.
August 16th, 2000
It's nice to have a week with no one shooting at us, ripping us off or dicking around. We've hired a crew to work on the house and tear down a few of the neighboring ones that aren't safe or really block the view. We get to straw boss rather than sweat. I like.
Captain's chief spy, Arun, was released from Dr. Krol's care. She paid well for his treatment and offered him a job with us. He used to be an accountant type with the roads department here in Poland. He's taking over a bit of the supply side of things at the house. He helped the Cap pull together the work crew from folks he knew out in the camps.
Each of us got some liberty, in a rotation.
Leo brought back a string of fish from the riverside.
Yummy, wonder how many PCBs we're chomping down. "And they're good for the compost pile we're starting." Ugh.
Lleywellan decided to get some hunting in north of Krakow. He took Doc and Arun with him. Wanted to see if the new guy still rememberd how to shoot from his mandatory stint back in the day. They took a boar! While Doc and A. butchered it he went off on his ownsome for a second try and found a cow. Like a real cow. Moo. Says he walked right up to it and put a rope around the neck. Milk, it does a body good. Once it gets back up to weight I'll run the GC past the pail. Just to be sure.
Donald and I went shopping. I found a box of guages salvaged off some armored vehicles. I took the whole box, if I'm lucky half will work. Luck was with me, there was a CRT and disassembled joystick at the bottom. I might be able to get the ATGM station functional.
I also spent some time looking for a souvenier. I know were getting home and by God I want something unique. Everybody has an AK or Makarov if they want one. I got my sights set on one of those Sov. Tommyguns with the wood stock and drum mag. Now that's cool. I could hang it over the door and say, "I took that in the war!" Take it down on the Fourth and run a drum or two through it. Haven't found one yet, but there's a guy who knows a guy. We'll see in a few days.
The techies, that's Leo, Donald and I if you're keeping score, are going to try to repair the BMP tomorrow. I already told Leo and Donald since neither one has any electronics experience they'll be doing the drivers position. I get the ATGM panel. Hope it is just the CRT so I can get it wrapped fast and give the others encouraging advice.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
026 Hunting
Captain Paterson, August 11th, 2000
Randy, you sad, dead, son of a bitch. You took our box, took out OT and nearly took Moon-Pie's life. I will personally see you as crow food. Let's start with your girl friend.
When we first linked up with the traitor he had to stop at his girl friend's and pick up his kit. That should have been the first clue as to something not right with him. He's been here less than two weeks and he's already shacked up? Not likely.
We hit her apartment hard. Had her in hand before she could react and almost splattered her little dog. Leo engaged in some persuasion to get her talking. She says he had been back today. He had an out of town job and would be back in a week. She was to wait for him, he'd have money then. She lied with conviction she did.
Might have believed her if it wasn't for the partially filled suitcase on the bed and the shiny gold and silver coins stashed in the sock pocket. Leo tried again with a bit more vigor.
Yes, yes, yes the answer came. He'd felt a package and some gold. Hide the package, be ready to move out. He needed to stash something big then they'd meet later. She was to go to Nowy Hut, he'd find her there. It all was going to make him rich with the black market.
We got the package from the space above her closet. I looked the wrapped book over while Leo continued to chat her up. Very nice, a graph lined log book detailing preliminary work. Experimenting with cold fusion. I skipped to the end, our box laid out in a exploded sketch. Oh, George and his Colonel will like this.
Leo got some more info out of the lady. She knew people in the black market. Times to get in touch and places where they ran events. Quasi-legal these boys. Just use some script and the ORMO was glad to look the other way. I told her, she's coming with us. I can use you if we need to talk to them. I left the alternative unsaid.
----------
Nowy Hut's not someplace we could just roll into and expect to find Randy. The place was an industrial town downstream from Krakow. Or had been. They'd made something important to the war effort. Caught a tac strike back in '97. Nobody lives there now.
But he might not even be in Nowy Hut. He'd talked to the friend first and then taken our OT out. The mighty cow would stand out in the ruins. No, he'd stash it and take another route in. We went back to the lot and talked to our ORMO friends. Spread a little script around and learned what road he'd taken.
Now tracking a vehicle used to be a difficult thing. Good luck with wheels on pavement. But here, we're looking at 3 years of no maintenance and high track traffic from the war. Pavement is chewed to rubble where it isn't coated with dirt and mud run-off from the hills. Plus, I've got the keen eyes of Leo and Moon-Pie along. We can follow in fits and starts.
He went up into the hills north of Krakow before taking to a fire trail. Donald, looking up from a map, says we're in a National Park. Good, less witnesses. His track leads down to a hollow where the Park had maintenance sheds and vehicle storage. I left Ed and the girl with the UAZ and took the rest down.
The main vehicle building had a double door vestibule on one long end and an emergency fire door on the other. Two roll up garage doors graced each end. With any luck they were pull through making the interior one long firelane. The few windows were high and narrow for light and ventilation rather than gazing.
Leo snuck over to the fire door and quietly wedged it shut with a knife in the door jam. He rejoined us and we crept around to the vestibule keeping low. The frosted glass of the front double doors blocked the interior. We kept back along the building walls while Leo gingerly reached out and pulled the left hand door open. I joined him.
The open space was a mud room with doors set opposite the entrance. Their glass was clear. Leo stood enough to peak over. "OT in the garage, wire on the right hand door, claymore to catch them both."
"Just the right?"
"Da. Which one do you always use?"
True enough. Try as I might, when I don't think about it I run into Poles and Germans going in or out.
Moon-Pie hisses from the outside, "Psst, make it fast. We got company coming from the hills."
"Nothing on the left?"
Leo doesn't answer, just takes the door handle and pulls it open. "Guess not."
The crew quickly moves in. Leo takes time to switch the wires around so the left door is trapped. The rest of us secure the building. No one home. But there's our OT. Inside is our box.
I have the men load up. I take the wheel. Leo grabs the turret. Moon-Pie rides shotgun.
"Don't start ut up," says Leo. "I want to watch as they come through the door."
" 'K fine, but I'm taking it right through the roller when you're done."
"Don't want to open first?"
"No," answers Moon_pie for me, "We're several tons, it's sheet metal."
Leo laughs and cranks the turret around manually.
If our company was just passing though they'll be gone in ten minutes. If they're coming here, and I think we all know they are, they'll be here any time now.
The watch goes tick-tick-tick.
Leo, "Shadows at the door."
They open the left one, the one they've been told was safe, and now isn't. The ball bearings shred them, but Leo has to put a long burst through there as well. "Just to be sure."
The garage door goes down just as fast to the OT's mass. We swing by Ed and hit the road.
-------------
We travel until we get to a park rest stop. Girl friend's been doing some more talking to Ed and Doc. They've got a good idea where Randy would have holed up to wait for her. Doc takes her shoes and we kick her to the curb. It'll take her a day or three to walk back to Krakow, but she gets her life. We're convinced she wasn't an instigator, just swept along with one, and I won't have her life for another's sins.
------------
Down by the river in Nowy Hut there was a factory built into the bluff. The lower level allowed direct access to river barges for cargo transfers while the upper allowed easy use of the road net. Randy should be on that lower level using the bulk of the bluff and factory to block any lingering radiation. He'd be holed up for the night.
I think we were all exhausted and adrenaline rushed because we hit on a marvelous plan to take him in one go. The OT-64 is amphibious, we'd just putter down the river and roll up onto the dock and right through the loading bay doors. We had the box and book, Randy didn't have anything we wanted. The KPV would chew him up quick. So, that's the plan.
Thing we forgot, hell just didn't know, was the loading doors dropped down into a ramped pit to allow semi's to back up to the dock. Ed stomping the breaks prevented us from ramming it and trashing the OT's alignment. The second thing was the door was draped over the KPV turret. Ed reversed us right quick, but we couldn't get the door clear.
Leo, Doc and I bailed. We set off back into the factory on foot. Up above we could here echoes of booted feet on metal stairs and catwalks. We headed up. When we reached the top level an iron emergency door slammed. We didn't slow down. Cleared the door at a run, which was stupid in retrospect as he could of shot us all if he wasn't still rabbiting, and looked around. Down the bloack and about to round the corner sprinted Randy. Three guns spoke so closely together that they might as well have been one. Randy, in full stretch, rag-dolled out into the intersection. We shouldered arms and approached at a walk.
Almost there when the OT appeared and rolled over that fool's remains. Moon-Pie looked down from the gunner's hatch. "Was that him?"
We nodded back and he grinned. "Good, you don't mind?"
We didn't voice any protests so he shouted down into the hatch. "Driver, forward ten! Driver stop! Driver Reverse! Driver stop! Driver forward..."
It took some five or six repetitions to get it out of his system. Eddie added some side to side action of his own to stave off the boredom. All that was left was crow food. I left his tags. He doesn't deserve to be remembered.
Randy, you sad, dead, son of a bitch. You took our box, took out OT and nearly took Moon-Pie's life. I will personally see you as crow food. Let's start with your girl friend.
When we first linked up with the traitor he had to stop at his girl friend's and pick up his kit. That should have been the first clue as to something not right with him. He's been here less than two weeks and he's already shacked up? Not likely.
We hit her apartment hard. Had her in hand before she could react and almost splattered her little dog. Leo engaged in some persuasion to get her talking. She says he had been back today. He had an out of town job and would be back in a week. She was to wait for him, he'd have money then. She lied with conviction she did.
Might have believed her if it wasn't for the partially filled suitcase on the bed and the shiny gold and silver coins stashed in the sock pocket. Leo tried again with a bit more vigor.
Yes, yes, yes the answer came. He'd felt a package and some gold. Hide the package, be ready to move out. He needed to stash something big then they'd meet later. She was to go to Nowy Hut, he'd find her there. It all was going to make him rich with the black market.
We got the package from the space above her closet. I looked the wrapped book over while Leo continued to chat her up. Very nice, a graph lined log book detailing preliminary work. Experimenting with cold fusion. I skipped to the end, our box laid out in a exploded sketch. Oh, George and his Colonel will like this.
Leo got some more info out of the lady. She knew people in the black market. Times to get in touch and places where they ran events. Quasi-legal these boys. Just use some script and the ORMO was glad to look the other way. I told her, she's coming with us. I can use you if we need to talk to them. I left the alternative unsaid.
----------
Nowy Hut's not someplace we could just roll into and expect to find Randy. The place was an industrial town downstream from Krakow. Or had been. They'd made something important to the war effort. Caught a tac strike back in '97. Nobody lives there now.
But he might not even be in Nowy Hut. He'd talked to the friend first and then taken our OT out. The mighty cow would stand out in the ruins. No, he'd stash it and take another route in. We went back to the lot and talked to our ORMO friends. Spread a little script around and learned what road he'd taken.
Now tracking a vehicle used to be a difficult thing. Good luck with wheels on pavement. But here, we're looking at 3 years of no maintenance and high track traffic from the war. Pavement is chewed to rubble where it isn't coated with dirt and mud run-off from the hills. Plus, I've got the keen eyes of Leo and Moon-Pie along. We can follow in fits and starts.
He went up into the hills north of Krakow before taking to a fire trail. Donald, looking up from a map, says we're in a National Park. Good, less witnesses. His track leads down to a hollow where the Park had maintenance sheds and vehicle storage. I left Ed and the girl with the UAZ and took the rest down.
The main vehicle building had a double door vestibule on one long end and an emergency fire door on the other. Two roll up garage doors graced each end. With any luck they were pull through making the interior one long firelane. The few windows were high and narrow for light and ventilation rather than gazing.
Leo snuck over to the fire door and quietly wedged it shut with a knife in the door jam. He rejoined us and we crept around to the vestibule keeping low. The frosted glass of the front double doors blocked the interior. We kept back along the building walls while Leo gingerly reached out and pulled the left hand door open. I joined him.
The open space was a mud room with doors set opposite the entrance. Their glass was clear. Leo stood enough to peak over. "OT in the garage, wire on the right hand door, claymore to catch them both."
"Just the right?"
"Da. Which one do you always use?"
True enough. Try as I might, when I don't think about it I run into Poles and Germans going in or out.
Moon-Pie hisses from the outside, "Psst, make it fast. We got company coming from the hills."
"Nothing on the left?"
Leo doesn't answer, just takes the door handle and pulls it open. "Guess not."
The crew quickly moves in. Leo takes time to switch the wires around so the left door is trapped. The rest of us secure the building. No one home. But there's our OT. Inside is our box.
I have the men load up. I take the wheel. Leo grabs the turret. Moon-Pie rides shotgun.
"Don't start ut up," says Leo. "I want to watch as they come through the door."
" 'K fine, but I'm taking it right through the roller when you're done."
"Don't want to open first?"
"No," answers Moon_pie for me, "We're several tons, it's sheet metal."
Leo laughs and cranks the turret around manually.
If our company was just passing though they'll be gone in ten minutes. If they're coming here, and I think we all know they are, they'll be here any time now.
The watch goes tick-tick-tick.
Leo, "Shadows at the door."
They open the left one, the one they've been told was safe, and now isn't. The ball bearings shred them, but Leo has to put a long burst through there as well. "Just to be sure."
The garage door goes down just as fast to the OT's mass. We swing by Ed and hit the road.
-------------
We travel until we get to a park rest stop. Girl friend's been doing some more talking to Ed and Doc. They've got a good idea where Randy would have holed up to wait for her. Doc takes her shoes and we kick her to the curb. It'll take her a day or three to walk back to Krakow, but she gets her life. We're convinced she wasn't an instigator, just swept along with one, and I won't have her life for another's sins.
------------
Down by the river in Nowy Hut there was a factory built into the bluff. The lower level allowed direct access to river barges for cargo transfers while the upper allowed easy use of the road net. Randy should be on that lower level using the bulk of the bluff and factory to block any lingering radiation. He'd be holed up for the night.
I think we were all exhausted and adrenaline rushed because we hit on a marvelous plan to take him in one go. The OT-64 is amphibious, we'd just putter down the river and roll up onto the dock and right through the loading bay doors. We had the box and book, Randy didn't have anything we wanted. The KPV would chew him up quick. So, that's the plan.
Thing we forgot, hell just didn't know, was the loading doors dropped down into a ramped pit to allow semi's to back up to the dock. Ed stomping the breaks prevented us from ramming it and trashing the OT's alignment. The second thing was the door was draped over the KPV turret. Ed reversed us right quick, but we couldn't get the door clear.
Leo, Doc and I bailed. We set off back into the factory on foot. Up above we could here echoes of booted feet on metal stairs and catwalks. We headed up. When we reached the top level an iron emergency door slammed. We didn't slow down. Cleared the door at a run, which was stupid in retrospect as he could of shot us all if he wasn't still rabbiting, and looked around. Down the bloack and about to round the corner sprinted Randy. Three guns spoke so closely together that they might as well have been one. Randy, in full stretch, rag-dolled out into the intersection. We shouldered arms and approached at a walk.
Almost there when the OT appeared and rolled over that fool's remains. Moon-Pie looked down from the gunner's hatch. "Was that him?"
We nodded back and he grinned. "Good, you don't mind?"
We didn't voice any protests so he shouted down into the hatch. "Driver, forward ten! Driver stop! Driver Reverse! Driver stop! Driver forward..."
It took some five or six repetitions to get it out of his system. Eddie added some side to side action of his own to stave off the boredom. All that was left was crow food. I left his tags. He doesn't deserve to be remembered.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
025: Revelations and Betrayls
Leonid
Our marine breaks eggs. We grab chunks of black bread and sop them up. Hmmm, good stuff. Double good when I not do it. He complains we don't have the "right stuff" and we should try his "pulled pork". He can make own hand jobs.
Kapitan takes most of us for errands. Doc gets dropped off for do good at hospital. Rest of us go to see George, our friend with American GRU the DIA. Don and Ed watch car while she takes me into the house. They talk too much.
"Those tags and logs you gave me have my superiors stirred up. They're something we're supposed to be on the look out for."
Kapitan lets quiet speak for her. Technique works well, George fills the silence. "Bad ass special ops team code-named Zulu. The records indicate they succeeded in grabbing their objective. Did you find anything?"
"We found a lot of things George.You're going to have to tell me what it is you're looking for." There goes my dreams of a record player.
"Two items captain. One should be a research log, either in a journal or in a graph book, sorta like what you did labs in back at school. The second is a prototype, rough worked, bigger than a breadbox, but smaller than a truck. We're not really sure what it looks like."
"I gave you all the written material we found. What's this thing supposed to do."
"You know I shouldn't say."
"So, we shouldn't be here either."
"Look, I don't have many details, but I can tell you it would make reconstruction much easier if we can get it back home."
No, don't ruin my plans for music, dancing and parties. I never told you about the parties. I hum tunelessly. Kapitan looks back over me and shakes, no.
"I got something to show you George, back at the house."
----------
I smell it as soon as I enter the front hall. Cordite and blood. My hands flick off my safety. "Stop."
I bring the AKR up and step around the Kapitan. "Smell it."
"Yeah." She pulls her handgun. "George, back to the jeep. Some thing's happened."
I glide down the hall. Kapitan's got my back. I hear the city and street. Nothing further in for now. The basement door stands open. The door jam and wood floor scarred by the impact of something heavy. Something that came up from where we placed the box.
"I see it," from Kap.
"I go, you stay."
"Right." And I'm headed down. Slow steps, near the edges, no creaks. Our marine lies against the wall near where the box had been. Blood pools in his lap and around his legs. I ignore him, section the room. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Check the coal room, empty.
Basement secure I check on our marine. Pulse and breath still there. He doesn't have his vest on. Two sodden holes are punched through his shirt."Kapitan, Lou's down, still breathing!"
She takes care of him while I return to the main hall. Donald's in at the door. We make sure of the rest of the house. Some one's tossed our rooms. Made off with Don's stash from Chestochawa and that of a few of the others. The air vent in my room is undisturbed. I don't check, the others don't need to know where my stash is.
By the time we finish, Lou's sitting a the kitchen table with a swath of bandages wrapped around his middle. Pale faced he recounts his story to the Kapitan.
"We were checking the gear from the countryside haul. Randy said he needed a dump. He came back with a shotgun. Gave me both barrels."
"Good thing you were wearing your vest then." He starts to protest and she talks right over him. "Have to let Doc get a look at you for the ribs. You must have hit your head when you fell."
Looking over at George, "Those head wounds bleed a lot. George. We got some business to attend to. Put the word out to look for that Cutler bastard. Ed will get you wherever you need to go. We got a rat bastard to catch. Ed, grab Doc after you drop him off."
Our marine breaks eggs. We grab chunks of black bread and sop them up. Hmmm, good stuff. Double good when I not do it. He complains we don't have the "right stuff" and we should try his "pulled pork". He can make own hand jobs.
Kapitan takes most of us for errands. Doc gets dropped off for do good at hospital. Rest of us go to see George, our friend with American GRU the DIA. Don and Ed watch car while she takes me into the house. They talk too much.
"Those tags and logs you gave me have my superiors stirred up. They're something we're supposed to be on the look out for."
Kapitan lets quiet speak for her. Technique works well, George fills the silence. "Bad ass special ops team code-named Zulu. The records indicate they succeeded in grabbing their objective. Did you find anything?"
"We found a lot of things George.You're going to have to tell me what it is you're looking for." There goes my dreams of a record player.
"Two items captain. One should be a research log, either in a journal or in a graph book, sorta like what you did labs in back at school. The second is a prototype, rough worked, bigger than a breadbox, but smaller than a truck. We're not really sure what it looks like."
"I gave you all the written material we found. What's this thing supposed to do."
"You know I shouldn't say."
"So, we shouldn't be here either."
"Look, I don't have many details, but I can tell you it would make reconstruction much easier if we can get it back home."
No, don't ruin my plans for music, dancing and parties. I never told you about the parties. I hum tunelessly. Kapitan looks back over me and shakes, no.
"I got something to show you George, back at the house."
----------
I smell it as soon as I enter the front hall. Cordite and blood. My hands flick off my safety. "Stop."
I bring the AKR up and step around the Kapitan. "Smell it."
"Yeah." She pulls her handgun. "George, back to the jeep. Some thing's happened."
I glide down the hall. Kapitan's got my back. I hear the city and street. Nothing further in for now. The basement door stands open. The door jam and wood floor scarred by the impact of something heavy. Something that came up from where we placed the box.
"I see it," from Kap.
"I go, you stay."
"Right." And I'm headed down. Slow steps, near the edges, no creaks. Our marine lies against the wall near where the box had been. Blood pools in his lap and around his legs. I ignore him, section the room. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Check the coal room, empty.
Basement secure I check on our marine. Pulse and breath still there. He doesn't have his vest on. Two sodden holes are punched through his shirt."Kapitan, Lou's down, still breathing!"
She takes care of him while I return to the main hall. Donald's in at the door. We make sure of the rest of the house. Some one's tossed our rooms. Made off with Don's stash from Chestochawa and that of a few of the others. The air vent in my room is undisturbed. I don't check, the others don't need to know where my stash is.
By the time we finish, Lou's sitting a the kitchen table with a swath of bandages wrapped around his middle. Pale faced he recounts his story to the Kapitan.
"We were checking the gear from the countryside haul. Randy said he needed a dump. He came back with a shotgun. Gave me both barrels."
"Good thing you were wearing your vest then." He starts to protest and she talks right over him. "Have to let Doc get a look at you for the ribs. You must have hit your head when you fell."
Looking over at George, "Those head wounds bleed a lot. George. We got some business to attend to. Put the word out to look for that Cutler bastard. Ed will get you wherever you need to go. We got a rat bastard to catch. Ed, grab Doc after you drop him off."
Friday, October 7, 2011
024: Bullets
Captain Paterson, August 11th, 2000
Morning came too early with a rap on our door.
We'd spread out over the house, each eager to have some space to ourselves. I took the master bedroom, front of the house, on the third floor. Spacious with a good view of the street and a heavy, but short, chest of drawers for the machinegun to be braced on. The new normal for a live officer.
Another rap that I tried to ignore. Then the sound of the knob turning and the door banging against my kit bag doorstop. Sigh, they weren't going away.
"Who is it?"
"Miller, we need to talk."
"Alright Doc, give me a minute." I sleep in pants and undershirt these days. Getting up is just a matter of shirt, vest and boots. At least she's not trying to get in anymore.
I kick the bag over to the side of the door before opening it. The Doc's face is drawn. She looks back and forth down the hall. As soon as there's enough room she squeezes through the door. Takes a spot with her back against the wall.
She takes a steadying breath. Holds out a clenched fist. "Take'em."
Doc drops four spent bullets, one by one, into my palm. "I found those in my bedding when I woke. Do you think someone's playing games?"
"I'll have their balls if they are." I roll them round my hand as I think. "Have you angered anyone lately?" She shakes her head. "Has anyone come on to you?" Another shake. Damn that would have been an easier one. "I haven't heard word one against you either."
"I got shot. Now there's bullets in my bedding. Someone hates..."
"No, someone is being a mean fuck. Now, I've been with Donald and Ed for over a year. I trust them implicetly. I'm going to get them over here. Let me know if you don't, I won't hold it against you."
"No, they're good. You should bring Leo in as well. If he had a problem he'd say it direct to my face and make me laugh at it."
I leave Doc in my room and gather up the boys. This is the old crew, worked together throughout the winter, fought through the summer offensive and lived through one hellish night of fire and death. Once we're all together I pass them a bullet each and tell Doc's story. "Opinions?"
Donald clears his throat. Once it's clear he's got everyone's attention he holds up his bullet and quietly speaks. "5.45 Bloc, Soviet round. You can see by the striations that it was fired down a rifled barrel. The deformation of the tip shows it hit something soft. The, uh, discoloration flakes off. It wasn't dirt."
"So, you think someone dug it out of a body?" Donald nods.
"Kapitan," Leo hesitantly begins, "Major. When you treated your wounds did you notice any vest penetrations or exit wounds."
Doc puts on her beligerant face. "No, I didn't. There weren't any entry wounds either."
"Just much blood. Some skin breaks, maybe, but no holes. Da?"
"That's exactly right buster."
"Like me under Shrine?"
"Just like it."
Leo shrugs off his vest and turns it around. Waggles three fingers through three matching holes. "Clean penetrations at two meters and I'm walking out fine. You took them at the same. Does your side still hurt? Your leg?"
Quietly. "No."
"Check your vest."
I let her. I should have put a stop to the whole line of questions, but it's like a train wreck and I can't help but rubberneck. Doc pulls off her vest and finds two holes through the lower right side panel. All the way through. Doc whispers, "Should have gone through a kidney or the large intestine."
"Kapitan, you too. I remember your leg cover with blood from spike in pit." I remember too. Tried to believe it was someone else's blood. "You pant leg all brown with blood. You should fall over. Pass out. Carry out Fillipowitz instead."
He hands the bullet back to Doc. "This not left by someone. This come from you. Inside you. When you sleep."
We're all looking sickly at one another when the door creaks and Moon-Pie pokes his head in.
"You're all crazy. You know that. Loud too. You want to make up stories and scare yourselves. That's fine by me, but keep it down. M'kay?"
He pulls the door shut. Clomps off down the hall. Shouts back, "I'm breaking eggs and bread. Wake up and come on down."
Doc, "Another nation is heard from."
"Look, regardless of what he said, something off has happened. It hasn't hurt us any either. We'll figure it out."
Leo shakes his head as he heads for the door, "Nothing to figure. It's Our Lady."
"Nah," chimes Eddie, "haunted forest. Right Alpha?"
Donald trades a fist bump with him. He doesn't answer.
I put my arm around Doc's shoulders. "We'll figure it out. But not on an empty stomach."
Morning came too early with a rap on our door.
We'd spread out over the house, each eager to have some space to ourselves. I took the master bedroom, front of the house, on the third floor. Spacious with a good view of the street and a heavy, but short, chest of drawers for the machinegun to be braced on. The new normal for a live officer.
Another rap that I tried to ignore. Then the sound of the knob turning and the door banging against my kit bag doorstop. Sigh, they weren't going away.
"Who is it?"
"Miller, we need to talk."
"Alright Doc, give me a minute." I sleep in pants and undershirt these days. Getting up is just a matter of shirt, vest and boots. At least she's not trying to get in anymore.
I kick the bag over to the side of the door before opening it. The Doc's face is drawn. She looks back and forth down the hall. As soon as there's enough room she squeezes through the door. Takes a spot with her back against the wall.
She takes a steadying breath. Holds out a clenched fist. "Take'em."
Doc drops four spent bullets, one by one, into my palm. "I found those in my bedding when I woke. Do you think someone's playing games?"
"I'll have their balls if they are." I roll them round my hand as I think. "Have you angered anyone lately?" She shakes her head. "Has anyone come on to you?" Another shake. Damn that would have been an easier one. "I haven't heard word one against you either."
"I got shot. Now there's bullets in my bedding. Someone hates..."
"No, someone is being a mean fuck. Now, I've been with Donald and Ed for over a year. I trust them implicetly. I'm going to get them over here. Let me know if you don't, I won't hold it against you."
"No, they're good. You should bring Leo in as well. If he had a problem he'd say it direct to my face and make me laugh at it."
I leave Doc in my room and gather up the boys. This is the old crew, worked together throughout the winter, fought through the summer offensive and lived through one hellish night of fire and death. Once we're all together I pass them a bullet each and tell Doc's story. "Opinions?"
Donald clears his throat. Once it's clear he's got everyone's attention he holds up his bullet and quietly speaks. "5.45 Bloc, Soviet round. You can see by the striations that it was fired down a rifled barrel. The deformation of the tip shows it hit something soft. The, uh, discoloration flakes off. It wasn't dirt."
"So, you think someone dug it out of a body?" Donald nods.
"Kapitan," Leo hesitantly begins, "Major. When you treated your wounds did you notice any vest penetrations or exit wounds."
Doc puts on her beligerant face. "No, I didn't. There weren't any entry wounds either."
"Just much blood. Some skin breaks, maybe, but no holes. Da?"
"That's exactly right buster."
"Like me under Shrine?"
"Just like it."
Leo shrugs off his vest and turns it around. Waggles three fingers through three matching holes. "Clean penetrations at two meters and I'm walking out fine. You took them at the same. Does your side still hurt? Your leg?"
Quietly. "No."
"Check your vest."
I let her. I should have put a stop to the whole line of questions, but it's like a train wreck and I can't help but rubberneck. Doc pulls off her vest and finds two holes through the lower right side panel. All the way through. Doc whispers, "Should have gone through a kidney or the large intestine."
"Kapitan, you too. I remember your leg cover with blood from spike in pit." I remember too. Tried to believe it was someone else's blood. "You pant leg all brown with blood. You should fall over. Pass out. Carry out Fillipowitz instead."
He hands the bullet back to Doc. "This not left by someone. This come from you. Inside you. When you sleep."
We're all looking sickly at one another when the door creaks and Moon-Pie pokes his head in.
"You're all crazy. You know that. Loud too. You want to make up stories and scare yourselves. That's fine by me, but keep it down. M'kay?"
He pulls the door shut. Clomps off down the hall. Shouts back, "I'm breaking eggs and bread. Wake up and come on down."
Doc, "Another nation is heard from."
"Look, regardless of what he said, something off has happened. It hasn't hurt us any either. We'll figure it out."
Leo shakes his head as he heads for the door, "Nothing to figure. It's Our Lady."
"Nah," chimes Eddie, "haunted forest. Right Alpha?"
Donald trades a fist bump with him. He doesn't answer.
I put my arm around Doc's shoulders. "We'll figure it out. But not on an empty stomach."
023: Magic Box part 3
Captain Paterson, August 9th and 10th, 2000
Late night experimenting and waiting on the radio. George, our contact with DIA COS Krakow, confirmed our request for a meet. I want the tags and papers in other hands as soon as possible. I haven't decided on the box yet. Such a curiosity and challenge.
From all the sockets sticking out of the panel we figured it was a power source of some sort and the toggle was the on-off switch. I sent Don and Randy to scavenge every electrical item they could find and plugged them in one by one. Those still in working order lit, bleeped or whirred. I plugged in as many as I could and they all worked.
Next step was testing the "fuel". The stuff bothered the hell out of me initially. We used a straw to pipet a small amount of it out of the reservoir. Just a few ounces, it didn't noticeably change the gauge any.
The fuel wouldn't catch with a flame, didn't react to battery acid, didn't react to a sliver of soap, evaporated under heat. My hands were itching for better equipment. We kept bouncing ideas and tests off of each other for a good while.
In the end Leo, being Leo, picked up the sample, swirled it around and to our shock downed it. He smiled and said, "Fuck it. It water. Let's open box." I gave him a five count to drop over dead before agreeing with him.
Eddie hauled out the tool kit, plugged his electric drill into the box and used it to remove the screws. He flipped the switch off and pulled his drill to work on the lid. It came off with some gentle encouragement and strong language. I watched as Eddie dealt with the interior details.
About three quarters of the foot locker was filled with yet another box, a real black box this time, welded all the way around. There was access near the bottom for the "fuel" to gravity feed in from the bottle through a plastic tube. A spaghetti tangle of differently colored wires ran out of the black box's side to the electrical outlets and switch. Eddie began searching through the tangle, reading tags off to Doc, and tracing the wire's connections.
Leo pulled a geiger counter out of his pack and leaned over Eddie. He started with the high gain and worked his way down as low as he could go.
"Hot, but not very." Eddie shot him a strained look. Doc made a give it up gesture. "Safe, just a little higher than background. Don't open box 2 and don't take it to bed."
Ed and Doc Miller got back to the interior details. I took Leo off to the other side of the room. I could see he'd though of something from the way he bounced over.
"Spill it."
"It nuclear. Soviet satellite reactor. Make them very small, run forever. We keep, da?"
Shaking my head I shot his theory down, "not unless your reactors defy Newton's Laws of Motion. You saw how hard it was to get moving and to stop. Remember the front door?"
His face fell. "Yes, but I want it to be reactor. Easy answer."
"Me too. I feel if we open the second box we'll find a third, then a fourth and so on all the way down."
"Like nesting dolls, one inside the other."
"I don't want to go down that rabbit hole. We'll keep it for now. If George and the spooks want it they can ask for it. I'll decide then."
"Good. Tomorrow, I shop for record player!"
"You do that Leo. You do that."
Late night experimenting and waiting on the radio. George, our contact with DIA COS Krakow, confirmed our request for a meet. I want the tags and papers in other hands as soon as possible. I haven't decided on the box yet. Such a curiosity and challenge.
From all the sockets sticking out of the panel we figured it was a power source of some sort and the toggle was the on-off switch. I sent Don and Randy to scavenge every electrical item they could find and plugged them in one by one. Those still in working order lit, bleeped or whirred. I plugged in as many as I could and they all worked.
Next step was testing the "fuel". The stuff bothered the hell out of me initially. We used a straw to pipet a small amount of it out of the reservoir. Just a few ounces, it didn't noticeably change the gauge any.
The fuel wouldn't catch with a flame, didn't react to battery acid, didn't react to a sliver of soap, evaporated under heat. My hands were itching for better equipment. We kept bouncing ideas and tests off of each other for a good while.
In the end Leo, being Leo, picked up the sample, swirled it around and to our shock downed it. He smiled and said, "Fuck it. It water. Let's open box." I gave him a five count to drop over dead before agreeing with him.
Eddie hauled out the tool kit, plugged his electric drill into the box and used it to remove the screws. He flipped the switch off and pulled his drill to work on the lid. It came off with some gentle encouragement and strong language. I watched as Eddie dealt with the interior details.
About three quarters of the foot locker was filled with yet another box, a real black box this time, welded all the way around. There was access near the bottom for the "fuel" to gravity feed in from the bottle through a plastic tube. A spaghetti tangle of differently colored wires ran out of the black box's side to the electrical outlets and switch. Eddie began searching through the tangle, reading tags off to Doc, and tracing the wire's connections.
Leo pulled a geiger counter out of his pack and leaned over Eddie. He started with the high gain and worked his way down as low as he could go.
"Hot, but not very." Eddie shot him a strained look. Doc made a give it up gesture. "Safe, just a little higher than background. Don't open box 2 and don't take it to bed."
Ed and Doc Miller got back to the interior details. I took Leo off to the other side of the room. I could see he'd though of something from the way he bounced over.
"Spill it."
"It nuclear. Soviet satellite reactor. Make them very small, run forever. We keep, da?"
Shaking my head I shot his theory down, "not unless your reactors defy Newton's Laws of Motion. You saw how hard it was to get moving and to stop. Remember the front door?"
His face fell. "Yes, but I want it to be reactor. Easy answer."
"Me too. I feel if we open the second box we'll find a third, then a fourth and so on all the way down."
"Like nesting dolls, one inside the other."
"I don't want to go down that rabbit hole. We'll keep it for now. If George and the spooks want it they can ask for it. I'll decide then."
"Good. Tomorrow, I shop for record player!"
"You do that Leo. You do that."
Thursday, October 6, 2011
022: Magic Box part 2
Captain Paterson
The stairs were less fun than I imagined. We got it going up it didn't want to stop once we ran out of stairs. I tried to keep myself from believing that Leo had to pull it down to get it to level out. Not right.
"Let's rotate it through the center point. Leo, you're first through the door." That, at least, went easily.
Leo was first through and down the front steps. He stumbled and lost his grip. I could feel, and worse see, the box floating there in defiance of god and gravity for three long heartbeats before starting to tilt downwards. Leo stepped back up and caught it with a grunt. He grunted again with effort as it kept trying to go down. Donald stepped in from the left and Eddie slipped around to the right. Between us we steadied the thng.
I let out a long breath. "Ok folks, to the back of the OT. We'll get it roped down inside."
The entire crew stared as we finished the job. I imagine it looked like we were fucking around with an empty box, making exaggerated motions and comical grunts. The strained expressions on their faces kept me from chewing them out for not keeping a good lookout. They knew we weren't playing.
"Finish up. We're burning daylight. I want to be back in Krakow by dark."
--------
I stuck Alphabet, Randy and Moon-Pie with the BMP. Donald had track experience from his construction days. Randy got to ride in the gunner's seat with his head out the hatch doing recon. Moon kept an eye on Randy. I kept remembering what Henryk had told me back in Krakow, "Cutler has more tales than old fox." He's still on double super-secret probation.
That left the four of us in the OT. Ed drove. He has a sixth sense behind the wheel and I don't want him anywhere else. Leo took the gun. Doc and I shared the infantry compartment with six big bags of food, a dozen guns, a pack full of papers and the box. Every turn we made the box strained against the webbing and ropes. I've no doubt it would have taken off in a straight line at the first curve if we hadn't.
"Some of these papers are in English." I told Doc as I handed them over. "Give them a once over. See if you can find anything about. About that."
I started to leaf through my own share. Made for interesting reading.
---------
Seems our lost countrymen had landed on the coast with 2nd Marine. After the guys smashed up the locals they'd traveled south, more or less, down the Vistula River to the new Polish capitol at Lublin. There they'd conducted a little smash and grab.
"Doc, you got anything in Polish? I'm looking for a journal or graph book. The type you did labs in at college."
"Not yet. I'll let you know."
They'd gotten part of what they'd wanted; a book and the prototype. The researcher whose work it had been died during the extraction. The log opines that he'd been deliberately targeted rather than let him fall into enemy hands. The names for four other soldiers was listed. I found the tags tucked into a folded paper bag at the back of the notebook. They'd proceeded east, dodging Pact forces, and planned to link up with 5th ID around Lodz. Maybe, they planned to be flexible. When the enemy kept getting thicker and the sound so disaster went out on the airwaves they turned towards Krakow.
"That's it Doc. The next pages are missing."
She looks over her papers at me. "We know what happened next. Those fuckers hit them and left them to rot."
She handed her papers back to me a bit at a time. "Can't add much here. We've got another copy of a Polish road map. A tourist's map to Lublin with a couple circled blocks. Some way out of date unit dispositions. Fuel and food consumption. They started out fully loaded and were running low by the time they turned to Krakow. This is interesting. They picked up an extra mouth the day your log ends."
"Say what."
"Yeah, issued an extra food ration for the next few days. Just before the records end. Some poor bastard guide or straggler."
"I don't think so."
"Doc, there were only Americans at the ambush site. Everybody had tags. No mystery bodies. By your count, we're short a body."
She mouthed a few choice obscenities.
"Agreed. With any luck I got the SOB at the station."
The stairs were less fun than I imagined. We got it going up it didn't want to stop once we ran out of stairs. I tried to keep myself from believing that Leo had to pull it down to get it to level out. Not right.
"Let's rotate it through the center point. Leo, you're first through the door." That, at least, went easily.
Leo was first through and down the front steps. He stumbled and lost his grip. I could feel, and worse see, the box floating there in defiance of god and gravity for three long heartbeats before starting to tilt downwards. Leo stepped back up and caught it with a grunt. He grunted again with effort as it kept trying to go down. Donald stepped in from the left and Eddie slipped around to the right. Between us we steadied the thng.
I let out a long breath. "Ok folks, to the back of the OT. We'll get it roped down inside."
The entire crew stared as we finished the job. I imagine it looked like we were fucking around with an empty box, making exaggerated motions and comical grunts. The strained expressions on their faces kept me from chewing them out for not keeping a good lookout. They knew we weren't playing.
"Finish up. We're burning daylight. I want to be back in Krakow by dark."
--------
I stuck Alphabet, Randy and Moon-Pie with the BMP. Donald had track experience from his construction days. Randy got to ride in the gunner's seat with his head out the hatch doing recon. Moon kept an eye on Randy. I kept remembering what Henryk had told me back in Krakow, "Cutler has more tales than old fox." He's still on double super-secret probation.
That left the four of us in the OT. Ed drove. He has a sixth sense behind the wheel and I don't want him anywhere else. Leo took the gun. Doc and I shared the infantry compartment with six big bags of food, a dozen guns, a pack full of papers and the box. Every turn we made the box strained against the webbing and ropes. I've no doubt it would have taken off in a straight line at the first curve if we hadn't.
"Some of these papers are in English." I told Doc as I handed them over. "Give them a once over. See if you can find anything about. About that."
I started to leaf through my own share. Made for interesting reading.
---------
Seems our lost countrymen had landed on the coast with 2nd Marine. After the guys smashed up the locals they'd traveled south, more or less, down the Vistula River to the new Polish capitol at Lublin. There they'd conducted a little smash and grab.
"Doc, you got anything in Polish? I'm looking for a journal or graph book. The type you did labs in at college."
"Not yet. I'll let you know."
They'd gotten part of what they'd wanted; a book and the prototype. The researcher whose work it had been died during the extraction. The log opines that he'd been deliberately targeted rather than let him fall into enemy hands. The names for four other soldiers was listed. I found the tags tucked into a folded paper bag at the back of the notebook. They'd proceeded east, dodging Pact forces, and planned to link up with 5th ID around Lodz. Maybe, they planned to be flexible. When the enemy kept getting thicker and the sound so disaster went out on the airwaves they turned towards Krakow.
"That's it Doc. The next pages are missing."
She looks over her papers at me. "We know what happened next. Those fuckers hit them and left them to rot."
She handed her papers back to me a bit at a time. "Can't add much here. We've got another copy of a Polish road map. A tourist's map to Lublin with a couple circled blocks. Some way out of date unit dispositions. Fuel and food consumption. They started out fully loaded and were running low by the time they turned to Krakow. This is interesting. They picked up an extra mouth the day your log ends."
"Say what."
"Yeah, issued an extra food ration for the next few days. Just before the records end. Some poor bastard guide or straggler."
"I don't think so."
"Doc, there were only Americans at the ambush site. Everybody had tags. No mystery bodies. By your count, we're short a body."
She mouthed a few choice obscenities.
"Agreed. With any luck I got the SOB at the station."
021: Magic Box part 1
Captain Paterson
Eddie shouts from the house, "Cap, need you downstairs!"
The stench of cordite, chemical smoke and spilled bowels still fill the clearing. I leave off helping Moon-Pie set tarps on the BMP's floor and seats and head off to the house.
Randy, who's supposed to be looking out for any marauders who've run off, is staring down at one of corpses and shifting it's head with his boot. "Cutler! Eyes on the wood line. You can play with him later." With a grunted acknowledgement he moves to the house corner and starts looking.
Down in the basement Leo and Ed are standing by a metal box the size of a footlocker. "Problem?"
"Yeah, Cap. It's a bit too heavy." Eddie is our 98 pound weakling. He tries, hard, but there's some things he can't handle.
"What's in it? Gold?"
The boys exchange looks. They're nervous. Leo replies, "Don't know. It screwed down."
That gets a cocked brow from me. I take a closer look. It isn't a footlocker. The entire box is metal with welds showing everywhere except the top. The top is a flat plate screwed down and a cap from a gas can. The cap's screwed into place just like it is on a jerry can.. On the side away from me there's a slit with glass, a simple gauge showing quarter full of some clear liquid, a toggle switch with a red metal flip cover to keep it from being accidentally struck, and a panel full of electrical sockets. Looks like I could plug in my washer, drier, TV, lamps and have a few left over. What the?
Eddie scuffs his boot, "Yeah, be careful when you try to move it."
I give him the hairy eyeball. He clears his throat, "Easier to do than explain Cap. It's real heavy, but it moves weird."
Leo chimes in. "Da. We lift, you see."
Leo and I squat down on either end of the box and get a good grip on the handles spot welded to it. "On 3. 1... 2... 3." The damn thing will not move almost as if is crazy-glued to the floor. I'm about to stop when Leo shakes his head at me. I keep straining. Slowly, as if pulling free of a mud pit, we straighten with the box. Finally, we're standing upright and it's between us. Doesn't feel like it ways more than 50 pounds.
Leo flashes a week grin. "As bad going side to side. Worried about stairs."
"Right, well we got it up. We'll just be careful on the steps. Ed, make sure no one is going up or down while we're on them."
"Right Cap."
"Let's go."
Eddie shouts from the house, "Cap, need you downstairs!"
The stench of cordite, chemical smoke and spilled bowels still fill the clearing. I leave off helping Moon-Pie set tarps on the BMP's floor and seats and head off to the house.
Randy, who's supposed to be looking out for any marauders who've run off, is staring down at one of corpses and shifting it's head with his boot. "Cutler! Eyes on the wood line. You can play with him later." With a grunted acknowledgement he moves to the house corner and starts looking.
Down in the basement Leo and Ed are standing by a metal box the size of a footlocker. "Problem?"
"Yeah, Cap. It's a bit too heavy." Eddie is our 98 pound weakling. He tries, hard, but there's some things he can't handle.
"What's in it? Gold?"
The boys exchange looks. They're nervous. Leo replies, "Don't know. It screwed down."
That gets a cocked brow from me. I take a closer look. It isn't a footlocker. The entire box is metal with welds showing everywhere except the top. The top is a flat plate screwed down and a cap from a gas can. The cap's screwed into place just like it is on a jerry can.. On the side away from me there's a slit with glass, a simple gauge showing quarter full of some clear liquid, a toggle switch with a red metal flip cover to keep it from being accidentally struck, and a panel full of electrical sockets. Looks like I could plug in my washer, drier, TV, lamps and have a few left over. What the?
Eddie scuffs his boot, "Yeah, be careful when you try to move it."
I give him the hairy eyeball. He clears his throat, "Easier to do than explain Cap. It's real heavy, but it moves weird."
Leo chimes in. "Da. We lift, you see."
Leo and I squat down on either end of the box and get a good grip on the handles spot welded to it. "On 3. 1... 2... 3." The damn thing will not move almost as if is crazy-glued to the floor. I'm about to stop when Leo shakes his head at me. I keep straining. Slowly, as if pulling free of a mud pit, we straighten with the box. Finally, we're standing upright and it's between us. Doesn't feel like it ways more than 50 pounds.
Leo flashes a week grin. "As bad going side to side. Worried about stairs."
"Right, well we got it up. We'll just be careful on the steps. Ed, make sure no one is going up or down while we're on them."
"Right Cap."
"Let's go."
020: Ed takes a trip
August 9th, 2000
Our friend in the Warta came by to give us some bad news. One of the prisoners they took is singing loudly. He claims they took out a group of Americans traveling the roads north of Krakow. He provided us with the location of the ambush and a cache where they had hidden the Americans personal effects. Cap took all of us out to the site.
They'd left to the elements for more than a week. We took their tags, buried them, and marked the site as best we could. Maybe, once this is all over, they can be brought home.
We were not in the best of moods as we made our way to the cache. Cap and Leo told me to stop a good ways out. I killed the engine. We could all hear another engine and the squeal of tracks from up ahead. Leo and Lou dismounted and scouted ahead.
Moon-Pie came back shortly. There was a BMP at the cache site and the crew was dismounted and clearing it out. Mix of uniforms, so he didn't think it was Poles from Krakow, and anyway... marauder cache. Cap doesn't believe in coincidences and neither do I.
Course, I got left with the OT while the rest snuck up on them.
They took them by surprise. The turret gunner got sniped, the dismounts were machinegunned down and two grenades got put down the BMP's hatches. Somewhere in the excitement Doc caught a few rounds, but she walked back to the OT under her own power. She says she'll be fine.
We now own a BMP. Course it has no speedometer, fuel guage or any other instrument left in the driver's seat. Worse, the gunner's position is shredded too. The 30mm's sight is still good, but I'm going to have to replace the ATGM station. Even worse, there were, like, guys in there when the grenades went off. Minestrone Soup.
We did find a stash of US gear. Lot of 16's, a few 60's and SAWs. Some weird shit too, lot of papers. They did a trip up the Vistula from the 2nd Marine's landing site, stopped in Lublin and were trying to reach the 5th when everything fell apart. We're going to drop it all off with our good freinds.
August 10th, 2000
What's in the box, the box, the box.
Just add water!
August 11th, 2000
Damn, damn damn. Too much weird and bad bullshit today. IF I write a fraction of it anyone reading this would think me a liar or mad. Perhaps later.
Our friend in the Warta came by to give us some bad news. One of the prisoners they took is singing loudly. He claims they took out a group of Americans traveling the roads north of Krakow. He provided us with the location of the ambush and a cache where they had hidden the Americans personal effects. Cap took all of us out to the site.
They'd left to the elements for more than a week. We took their tags, buried them, and marked the site as best we could. Maybe, once this is all over, they can be brought home.
We were not in the best of moods as we made our way to the cache. Cap and Leo told me to stop a good ways out. I killed the engine. We could all hear another engine and the squeal of tracks from up ahead. Leo and Lou dismounted and scouted ahead.
Moon-Pie came back shortly. There was a BMP at the cache site and the crew was dismounted and clearing it out. Mix of uniforms, so he didn't think it was Poles from Krakow, and anyway... marauder cache. Cap doesn't believe in coincidences and neither do I.
Course, I got left with the OT while the rest snuck up on them.
They took them by surprise. The turret gunner got sniped, the dismounts were machinegunned down and two grenades got put down the BMP's hatches. Somewhere in the excitement Doc caught a few rounds, but she walked back to the OT under her own power. She says she'll be fine.
We now own a BMP. Course it has no speedometer, fuel guage or any other instrument left in the driver's seat. Worse, the gunner's position is shredded too. The 30mm's sight is still good, but I'm going to have to replace the ATGM station. Even worse, there were, like, guys in there when the grenades went off. Minestrone Soup.
We did find a stash of US gear. Lot of 16's, a few 60's and SAWs. Some weird shit too, lot of papers. They did a trip up the Vistula from the 2nd Marine's landing site, stopped in Lublin and were trying to reach the 5th when everything fell apart. We're going to drop it all off with our good freinds.
August 10th, 2000
What's in the box, the box, the box.
Just add water!
August 11th, 2000
Damn, damn damn. Too much weird and bad bullshit today. IF I write a fraction of it anyone reading this would think me a liar or mad. Perhaps later.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
019: Ed writes
August 6th, 2000
Our good friends are a font of bad news. While we were running for our lives from Kalisz and touring scenic Silesia the Reds pushed us hard. There are many, many divisions between us and Germany. This isn't as bad as it would have been in '95, a division can be anywhere from a couple of thousand to us (5th ID(M), hurrah!), but it means lots of angry Red-men between here and 'home'.
They can't or won't give us solid details on the condition our forces. Probably too security conscious, but maybe they don't know either. They did tell us that they've gotten reports that many Pact units are refusing or incapable of carrying out attacks and several have completely dissolved. Yay us, angry Reds and marauders.
We might be staying in Poland longer than I ever wanted to.
----------------
The Cap has us looking for a place to stay, temporarily, but I figure it will be at least the winter and am looking accordingly. The Cap takes Leo and Alpha bit with her on her Warta job. That leaves Moon-Pie and Randi with me looking for a home. There is a lot of unoccupied real estate. You'd think that she'd let us have Alpha, who's built buildings and done home renovation, to check over the candidates... but NO!
Randi talks too much. The dude's been in town a few days, two weeks?, and he's already found a woman and shacked up. Bullshit.
Doc has been performing hearts and minds work. They have a small hospital running in the old city and she's volunteered to help them. She tells me they've set her up with a translator, a girl Jana something, and there are always ORMO guards around. I think there only is Dr. Krol and, maybe, a few nurses. He's seems glad to have the help.
August 7th, 2000
Home, sweet home. We've picked out a nice one. Guess who's doing the cleaning?
Cap tells me to keep a close eye on Randy.
August 8th, 2000
I miss out on all the fun. Thank God!
That little network Cap set up hit pay dirt, stirred up the marauders, who trailed it back to the meet point and firefight ensued. Leo got shot up and has a bad case of road rash from where he was thrown out of the UAZ. They captured a few raiders and their truck.
But the fun doesn't stop there!
I'm told the Doc turned into a cacking mad-woman in the middle of the fight and was loudly and happily proclaiming that "I got to kill someone!" I thought she was so nice.
Anyway, their Warta contact got called out and together they hatched an idea. They now knew the marauders were on the underground levels of this train station. Since this is a city station a couple of rail lines also ran underground, max utility, minimum space. The marauders stowed their motor vehicles down there. So, we'll use their truck to get inside and take care of things.
CS gas in a confined space is a nasty thing. Most of the raiders were taken out by that alone. The few that could fight, and may of those that couldn't, were quickly overcome. Cap, Doc and Leo chased the survivors out into the refugee camp around the station. Again, I'm told Doc displayed unHippocratic tendencies. Leo also swears that cap browbeat a raider into surrendering. I'm sure staring down her M60 had nothing to do with it.
Then again, she has quite a set of lungs.
On the other hand, Doc hired Jana to help with the house and our Polish. Randi talks too much and works too little, hound dogging. Can't really blame him.
Our good friends are a font of bad news. While we were running for our lives from Kalisz and touring scenic Silesia the Reds pushed us hard. There are many, many divisions between us and Germany. This isn't as bad as it would have been in '95, a division can be anywhere from a couple of thousand to us (5th ID(M), hurrah!), but it means lots of angry Red-men between here and 'home'.
They can't or won't give us solid details on the condition our forces. Probably too security conscious, but maybe they don't know either. They did tell us that they've gotten reports that many Pact units are refusing or incapable of carrying out attacks and several have completely dissolved. Yay us, angry Reds and marauders.
We might be staying in Poland longer than I ever wanted to.
----------------
The Cap has us looking for a place to stay, temporarily, but I figure it will be at least the winter and am looking accordingly. The Cap takes Leo and Alpha bit with her on her Warta job. That leaves Moon-Pie and Randi with me looking for a home. There is a lot of unoccupied real estate. You'd think that she'd let us have Alpha, who's built buildings and done home renovation, to check over the candidates... but NO!
Randi talks too much. The dude's been in town a few days, two weeks?, and he's already found a woman and shacked up. Bullshit.
Doc has been performing hearts and minds work. They have a small hospital running in the old city and she's volunteered to help them. She tells me they've set her up with a translator, a girl Jana something, and there are always ORMO guards around. I think there only is Dr. Krol and, maybe, a few nurses. He's seems glad to have the help.
August 7th, 2000
Home, sweet home. We've picked out a nice one. Guess who's doing the cleaning?
August 8th, 2000
I miss out on all the fun. Thank God!
That little network Cap set up hit pay dirt, stirred up the marauders, who trailed it back to the meet point and firefight ensued. Leo got shot up and has a bad case of road rash from where he was thrown out of the UAZ. They captured a few raiders and their truck.
But the fun doesn't stop there!
I'm told the Doc turned into a cacking mad-woman in the middle of the fight and was loudly and happily proclaiming that "I got to kill someone!" I thought she was so nice.
Anyway, their Warta contact got called out and together they hatched an idea. They now knew the marauders were on the underground levels of this train station. Since this is a city station a couple of rail lines also ran underground, max utility, minimum space. The marauders stowed their motor vehicles down there. So, we'll use their truck to get inside and take care of things.
CS gas in a confined space is a nasty thing. Most of the raiders were taken out by that alone. The few that could fight, and may of those that couldn't, were quickly overcome. Cap, Doc and Leo chased the survivors out into the refugee camp around the station. Again, I'm told Doc displayed unHippocratic tendencies. Leo also swears that cap browbeat a raider into surrendering. I'm sure staring down her M60 had nothing to do with it.
Then again, she has quite a set of lungs.
On the other hand, Doc hired Jana to help with the house and our Polish. Randi talks too much and works too little, hound dogging.
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