Golden Fleece

[seejay3]

OOC: Oops, sorry. Lets just say she's still seeing things okay?



Whats my name? Strange question for an illusion to ask, its even offering water! Oh yes, this is a very kind illusion, very nice, very gentlemanly. Elizibeth giggled again, she hadn't been treated this nice for a long time, pity it was all in her head. Well, she might as well play along, lets see. If this is a German Illusion, it obviously speaks German, so she might as well tell them her German name, the name printed in gold on her badge. She pointed to the Gold name badge and spoke. "Ich meine gute Art Käse bin Alena Adael."

What was the other question this dreamy person had asked? Oh yes, where had she come from. Well thats easy. She came from Russia! Mother Russia! She was about shout that out when she realized that she had been propped up against someones knee. Strange, how can that be? You cant touch illusions, can you? Yet this person was supporting her. One of the other people walked up to her with a Canteen. She looked from one person to the other, almost nervously before slowly reaching out and touching the canteen with the tip of her finger. IT WAS REAL! A slight whimper escaped her lips as she froze. She was surrounded by Germans, oh god no. How could this happen. She had to think quick.

"Oh mein Gott, Ihr richtiger? Ihre real!" She forced a massive smile to break across her face before she quickly reached up and gave the man holding her up a tight long hug. When she did let him go she reached out for the canteen, touching the other mans hand as she did so, yep, he was real too before tanking a short gulp of the warm water, At least it was liquid. "Bitte verzeihen Sie mir, ich-ich dachte, Sie waren nicht echt, ich dachte, Sie waren alle Illusionen, die durch die Hitze, die Geschehnisse vor. Ich habe hier steckt für drei Tage."

Damn her luck! How could be so stupid, she had almost given away her identity to the enemy! If she had of shouted out that she was Russian they surely would have executed her, or worse. She had to collect her thoughts, she had a talent for making up stories on the spot, but the heat was making this hard, she couldn't think, she might as well just tell the truth, bend it a little to make it a lie but stick with the basics. Just switch details about.

"Wir fliegen, wo über der Wüste, wenn ein amerikanisches Kampfflugzeug uns gesichtet hatte, gab er uns jagen und erschossen. Doch bevor das Flugzeug abgestürzt ist der Co-Pilot warf mir die Tür mit einem Fallschirm und einem Sack von Lieferungen. Aber das war vor drei Tagen. Ich habe keine Lebensmittel links und meine eigene Kantine ist fast leer." She had lowered her head while talking, and looked up at the man still kneeling with her. The one she had said was cute. Oh great, something else to be embarrassed about. "Vielen Dank, dass Sie für die Wasser-, aber wer bist du?"



Translations:


Oh mein Gott, Ihr richtiger? Ihre real! -
Oh my god, your real? Your real!


Bitte verzeihen Sie mir, ich-ich dachte, Sie waren nicht echt, ich dachte, Sie waren alle Illusionen, die durch die Hitze, die Geschehnisse vor. Ich habe hier steckt für drei Tage. -
Please forgive me, I- I thought you were not real, I thought you were all Illusions brought on by the heat, its happened before. I've been stuck here for three days


Wir fliegen, wo über der Wüste, wenn ein amerikanisches Kampfflugzeug uns gesichtet hatte, gab er uns jagen und erschossen. Doch bevor das Flugzeug abgestürzt ist der Co-Pilot warf mir die Tür mit einem Fallschirm und einem Sack von Lieferungen. Aber das war vor drei Tagen. Ich habe keine Lebensmittel links und meine eigene Kantine ist fast leer. -
We where flying over the desert when an American fighter spotted us, he gave chase and shot us down. But before the plane crashed the co-pilot threw me out the door with a parachute and a bag of supplies. But that was three days ago. I have no food left and my own canteen is almost empty.


Vielen Dank, dass Sie für die Wasser-, aber wer bist du? -
Thank you for the water, but who are you?

[Leon Wolfgang]

The heat was ‘sweltering’ hot, heck, sweltering seemed too vivid a word to use? As the heat was extortionately boiling hot, the hard canvas metal bird he’d dropped out of the sky in - only supplying a mild shelter, that even seemed to make the air beneath it bake, almost like an oven or stove. The sort of kitchen appliance he’d have back at home, ironic he’d compare a downed BF-190 to that of a cooker? Typical, but none the less, he made do with what shade he could get beneath and now cradling a young woman up against his thigh and knee, didn’t intentionally make him any cooler.

When Leon somewhat demandingly asked Lorenzo to give the young woman water, he didn’t mean it as an order, heck’ he didn’t even know any more than the basics of infantry based warfare. He was a bird, lead-winger of his flock, better at manipulating his pilots within the sky with orders -- but after his firm ‘request’ for the male to give the young lady water, he couldn’t help but feel a little passion of authority for a moment, after Lorenzo had looked to his fellow comrade, Corporal in arms, who must’ve given him an approving look, the Pilot watched quietly at the soldier approached with canteen in hand.

Dehydration did seem apparent in the young woman, as she deliriously let out gasps of giggles and uttered words she presumably wouldn’t dare confront strangers with in the street, but soon enough, the young woman spurted out a slight reality check, before latching onto him with an embrace. Leon’s eyes closed for a moment, as he felt his cheeks and lips bury and nestle against her shoulder and hair for a brief moment, his arms ever so timidly hanging around her back - but barely touched, in fear he’d become delirious she was his Anna, her name already sounding so familiar, Alena.

As the young woman broke away, Leon’s eyes opened slowly, his rugged features made to look more war driven, as the blood still remained stamped down one side of his face, barely untouched by the broken pale of sweat upon his brow. The Pilot listened intently, as she uttered out “Three days”, before saying she’d been shot down with her convoy aircraft. Leon’s teeth gritted a little, as he began to sympathise with the situation at hand she’d gotten into, he too being show down, alike his co-pilots.

“Ruhen Sie gut auf für ein Bit... Sie sind in guten Händen jetzt” Leon said quietly, as he brushed a few fragments of her hair away from her face, before shedding a slight smile to say “Ich bin Flug Leutnant Wolfgang…” he said within a quick introduction, before twisting his body slightly to look up towards the Corporal, giving a vague pointed gesture with his hand to speak again “Das ist Körperlich D'Dario und das ist Privater Pilino” The Pilot said, with a surprisingly very good memory, even though he’d just had his head shaken like a rag-doll within the crash; but Leon was a fast learner, which was particularly why he was slung at such a high rank when the war started. Whether it was because he earned it or just got the rank as the next best replacement - for the poor soul that died before hand, wasn’t too clear. But all he knew, was that he was good at his job.

After glancing between the men slightly, Leon’s eyes soon drifted back towards the young woman, partially because he was still feeling guilty after having snapped briefly. “Sind Sie - verletzt? Oder…” but the Pilot didn’t finish his question, as he rather insinuated ‘wounded’ with a slight beckoning to his head, as he looked down her body.




Translations:[/b]

Ruhen Sie gut auf für ein Bit... Sie sind in guten Händen jetzt.
- Well, rest up for a bit... You're in good hands now.

Ich bin Flug Leutnant Wolfgang...
- I’m Flight Lieutenant Wolfgang…

Das ist Körperlich D'Dario und das ist Privater Pilino
- That's Corporal D'Dario and that's Private Pilino

Sind Sie - verletzt? Oder...
- Are you - hurt? Or...

[Christopher J. D'Dario]

CJ and Lorenzo both nodded as they where pointed out to the woman. But when Wolfgang said she could wait here and rest, CJ got to his feet. "Wir können nicht hier bleiben, nicht mehr aus. Wenn eine Allianz scumbag sah Ihre Kämpfer gehen werden sie wimmeln in diesem Bereich bald. Lorenzo und mir, wo bombardiert Tauchgang durch Bomber auf dem Weg in die Basis. Wenn sich das Bündnis hat eine starke Präsenz Luft hier bewegen wir uns am besten." He nodded to Lorenzo to collect the things he'd managed to salvage from the plane. Not much, but the clever private had actually managed to get one of the machine guns off the wing. It was operational and had a large belt of ammunition as well. But it would be too heavy and cumbersome to carry in the heat.

As Lorenzo started climbing the side of a sand dune CJ walked over to the other two, as they where kneeling he lowered himself to his knees as well so he could address them on an equal level, even though he was a lower ranking officer. "Miss Alena Wenn Sie sich verletzen können wir Krankentrage für Sie, aber wir können nicht hier bleiben für lange. Wenn Sie könnten uns können Sie auch andere, und sie vielleicht nicht so freundlich wie Sie."

He turned to Wolfgang. "Sir, wenn der Inhalt von diesem Fall sind ebenso wichtig, wie Sie sie heraus, dass es dann können wir nicht leisten, Zeit der Taille. Wenn wir bombardiert, wo wir noch zwei Tage fahren, um die Basis zu erreichen, zu Fuß wir suchen in der Nähe einer Woche abhängig von unserer Geschwindigkeit. Wir müssen uns bewegen." he got to his feet again and looked around. It was late in the afternoon and the sun was on its way down in the sky. The night would be extreamly cold, as he had been told. Nights in the desert where as cold as the day was hot. They where some serious trouble.

He looked down at the two again before looking over to Lorenzo scanning the sky and sand dunes. He decided to let the others get themselves together and walked up the dune to stand next to Lorenzo. If they ran into trouble it would be up to them to defend the others. The Pilot Wolfgang only had a Pistol. The girl was unarmed as far as he knew. The Machine gun would be useful in a firefight. But Speed was what they needed, So it would be tampered with to render it useless should the enemy find it.





Translations:
1. We can't stay here any longer. If an alliance scumbag saw your fighter go down they will be swarming over this area soon. Lorenzo and myself where bombed by dive bombers on our way to the base. If the Alliance has a strong air presence here we best move.

2. Miss Alena If you are hurt we can make a stretcher for you, but we can not remain here for long. If you could find us others can too, and they might not be as friendly as you.

3. Sir if the contents of that case are as important as you made them out to be then we can not afford to waist time. When we where bombed we still had a two day drive to reach the base, on foot we're looking at close to a week depending on our speed. We must move.

[seejay3]

This is bad this is bad this is bad this is SO bad! Here she was sitting at a crash site with three Germans, one of whom was not only touching her but holding her up! Damn it! Damn this desert, damn this heat damn it all! But even though her mind was doing back flips trying to think up of a way to get herself out of this situation her face and actions where calm, her eyes never once flickered nor gave away her thoughts, that is why she was one of the best spy's and assassin the Alliance had.

The Man she had just hugged spoke again. Thats great, she could rest a little. Get back on her feet, oh yes they would look after her as long as they didn't find out who she really was. It seemed she was in good hands too, yep, in the hands of the enemy sure are good. A flicker of thought rushed through her mind. The man next to her did have good hands as far as she knew, when she hugged him his touch was soft, gentle. Who would have thought the Germans could be kind and soft. She blinked a few times to remove the thought from her mind.

She looked up as introductions where given, Flight Lieutenant? A Flight Lieutenant! Could this person actually be one of her targets? Well, that made things easy, sort of. Well not really. She let a small smile cross her lips as she looked up at the Wolfgang person. Even with blood down his face he still looked quite cute. The Blood just gave him character. Damn it! Get your head straight girl! This was just awesome, surrounded by enemies and she was fantasizing about one of them. Damn the heat.

She followed Wolfgang's hand as he waved toward the other two, D'Dario and Pilino. It was then she noticed something, the Corporal and the Private where armed a lot more heavily then Wolfgang. Stupid! How could be so silly, of course the three of them couldn't fit in the plane, these two obviously must have seen the crash like she did and came to investigate. God she needed to have a cold shower. One of those would be very very nice right about now.

When Wolfgang asked if she was hurt and motioned to his forehead she shook her head, she actually did have a very nasty sunburn starting to show on her skin, but other then that the landing from the parachute was smooth, she had not suffered any wounds or injuries at all. "Nein, ich bin fine thank you. Wie ist Ihr Kopf?" She looked up however when D'Dario got to his feet and said they had move, it made sense. If she could find the crash site in her delusional state then trained soldiers and pilots could find it easily. She didn't need a stretcher and to prove the point she got to her feet, using Wolfgang as support to get up, and standing up straight.

She listened as the Corporal continued talking to the Flight Lieutenant, something about a case? She looked down next to Wolfgang and spotted the Brown Briefcase. If there where important documents in that case it was her job to steal or destroy them. She would have to wait though, for if Wolfgang was one of her targets, she would have to kill him too. Such a waist, and now there was talk of a Base? This was turning into something interesting. Here she had her mission right in front of her, and now they where going to a base in the desert, That would be valuable information. She would have to wait until they reached the base before acting, Maybe she could mark its location for bombing. But for now, she will wait, and play the helpless female.



Translation:

Nein, ich bin fine thank you. Wie ist Ihr Kopf? -
No I'm fine thank you. How is your head?

[Leon Wolfgang]

OOC: Bit confused, did you say you was taking the machine-gun from the wing of the plane? Or leaving it, because it would weigh the group down?

IC:

Leon’s piercing blue eyes glanced around himself vaguely, getting an eerie feeling somewhat, almost like they could be being watched? But the Flight Lieutenant shrugged the eerie feeling from off his shoulders, his attention soon returning to the young ‘German’ woman within his grasp, who declared no other wounds - “Damn…” phased through his thoughts a little, as he felt the chance of helping her anymore slip away, but then again, now wasn’t the time nor’ the place to acquaint with a woman any further than needed.

As the Corporal spoke about Moving Out quickly, the Flight Lieutenant gave a quick nod, a slight squint taking to his eyes as he gazed up towards the male, before the young man knelt to make things easier. Leon wasn’t thinking all too straight, of course they had to move swiftly, any rest would have to come later. Leon’s eyes dampened a little as he recalled a slight figment before the crash, sending out a transmission via’ his radio, if the Corporal’s verdict on a local base nearby - his signal for help could’ve been received; hence’ a rescue party? But the Pilot didn’t hold out much hope, what was the point of a stress call without co-ordinates or directions? They were a needle in the haystack.

Feeling the young woman break from his support, levering herself up with a little help against his physic, the Pilot soon followed trail, his hand grabbing at the leather handle to his leather briefcase - the brown bag soon swinging up to his waist level. “Ich bin fein…” the Flight Lieutenant in response to the young woman, as he watched the Corporal take point with his comrade up front, awaiting their arrival upon a sand dune. “Wir bewegen am besten” Leon said with a gesture to start walking, as he began to step forth, feeling a little strange about their situation - as if he didn’t feel it before.

The Pilot’s temper remained subdued, but he couldn’t help but begin to point out errors - perhaps he’d caused himself. Disclosing the contents of the briefcase to the young Corporal and Private, was a safety net, who knows what could happen to him? He’s hurt after-all, but Leon couldn’t help but cringe within, when the young Corporal addressed him in front of a minor, the young woman, who now perhaps know the Briefcase’s contents herself. Leon had already broken the rules, telling the Corporal and his subordinate, as it was a ‘your eyes only’ sort of intelligence. The burden of the briefcase had been weighing him down for a while now, he almost began to wonder whether he should’ve used the fuel from the aircraft to burn it? Let’s face it, he had a fascinating memory, he could remember a majority of it’s contents…

Feeling more weary than anything now, Leon’s grasp remained tight on the briefcase, as his body moved up beside the Corporal. “Ich weiß, dass Sie ein Fußtruppenmannobergefreiter sind, und ich achte Ihre Fähigkeit, als Sie Mine für den Himmel achten würden. Aber darf ich vorschlagen, reinigen wir dieses Wrackteile und beruhigen uns für ein paar Stunden? Ich zweifle, dass ich für eine Woche laufen könnte…” the Pilot smiled a little, throwing in a small joke, the very first time his humour and light hearted side had shown since their acquaintance. Taking another breath, he continued to talk “Ich schlage vor, dass wir die Nacht, Rest im Tag laufen. Die Hitze würde uns sonst töten. Es ist fast Abenddämmerung jetzt, bis es Finsternis erhält, könnten wir ein paar Stunden unter unserem Band, vor Fortsetzen für der restlichen Nacht, festhält Schritt erhalten”

Leon had made his pledge in helping, whether it was of use. He was the higher ranking officer in the group, but he had belittled land-skill compared to that of the Corporal, who’d most likely walked miles and trekked further within battle. So he respected the man’s compliance, the Flight Officer wasn’t idiotic enough to have a big ego, where his word was the final say - so the Corporal, somewhat, had the upper hand.


Translations:[/b]

Ich bin fein...
- I’m fine…

Wir bewegen am besten
- We best move

Ich weiß, dass Sie ein Fußtruppenmannobergefreiter sind, und ich achte Ihre Fähigkeit, als Sie Mine für den Himmel achten würden. Aber darf ich vorschlagen, reinigen wir dieses Wrackteile und beruhigen uns für ein paar Stunden? Ich zweifle, dass ich für eine Woche laufen könnte...
- I know you're an infantry man Corporal and i respect your skill, as you would respect mine for the sky. But may i suggest, we clear this wreckage and settle down for a few hours? I doubt i could walk for a week...

Ich schlage vor, dass wir die Nacht, Rest im Tag laufen. Die Hitze würde uns sonst töten. Es ist fast Abenddämmerung jetzt, bis es Finsternis erhält, könnten wir ein paar Stunden unter unserem Band, vor Fortsetzen für der restlichen Nacht, festhält Schritt erhalten.
- I suggest we walk the night, rest in the day. The heat would kill us otherwise. It's almost dusk now, by the time it get's dark, we could get a couple of hours under our belt, before continuing for the rest of the night, steady pace.

[Christopher J. D'Dario]

OOC: We didn't take the Machine gun, We're going to sabotage it so if the enemy finds the sight it wont work for them.

Something had changed with the pilot. CJ could sense something, almost like humor. Since when do Germans have a sense of humor? Never the less a small smile cracked its way over his lips. No, the pilot could not walk for a week, and he did have a point about walking at night. CJ nodded to the pilot. "Sie haben einen Punkt Sir. Aber wir müssen wegkommen von diesem Absturz. Wir gehen bis kurz vor Sonnenuntergang, ein paar Stunden Schlaf, dann weiter, wenn es Nacht ist zurückgegangen."

He turned and spoke quickly to Lorenzo who ran ran down to the plane and picked up the Machine gun, he slammed the barrel down against the side of the plane a few times until the barrel bent, then he removed the firing pin and threw it as far as he could away from the plane. No one would be able to use that weapon now. With that out of the way and making sure the Pilot and the woman was following he started walking. Lorenzo brought up the rear, together they scanned the sky and the sand dunes for any sign of movement, anything that would give away an enemies presence. It would be an hour walk before they stopped to rest.



OOC: I seem to be having trouble writing! Damn it, I'll try and improve later, I'm just finding it hard to describe things at the moment.

Translation:
1. You have a point Sir. But we must get away from this crash site. We'll walk until just before sundown, have a few hours sleep, then continue on when night has fallen.

[seejay3]

'Alena' didn't step away from Wolfgang as he got to his feet, in fact she made sure she was very close to him when he stood up. Her eyes met his but she looked away as he said he was fine. She had gotten herself in this situation. She now had to play the role, she would be the defenseless woman saved by the big strong soldiers. She closed her eyes with disgust at the thought. But she would play the part. She had no choice. Anyway, she wanted to know what was in that case, and where the base was. A week was a long time to walk though. Maybe she could play on the pilot, use him a little and learn a few things.

The heat was still causing her thoughts to slip, she normally focused all her energy on the task at hand, but she had no energy, she was exhausted, dehydrated, hungry and lost in the desert in the the enemy. She still had the canteen in her hand and she took another gulp of the warm water, feeling the liquid flow down her throat before putting the cap back on. She was very thirsty, but water was scarce, and they needed to save as much of it as they could.

She started following Wolfgang as he walked up the dune to D'Dario and Pilino. But fell behind, not wanting them to think she was trying to listen in on their conversation. She caught fragments of the conversation. Something about respect and the heat killing them, she couldn't pick up any more. She remained where she was while D'Dario said something to Pilino and the Private ran down to the plane, picked up a machine gun and rendered it useless before taking up a position behind her. This must be the marching formation. D'Dario walking point and Pilino watching their backs, keeping Wolfgang and herself in the center, protecting them.

As they started walking Alena quickened her pace so she was walking next to Wolfgang. She could fake interest in this man, it would be easy, he was cute after all, even with the blood on his face. She smiled as she imagined what his skin would look like with blood on it. "Wie haben Sie abgeschossen?" She asked, not realizing she was looking at him with the smile still on her lips.


Translation:
Wie haben Sie abgeschossen? -
How did you get shot down?

[Leon Wolfgang]

OOC: That’s fine, your posts are Ace as they are.


Skimming the back of his across the side of his brow vaguely, the Pilot managed to scrape off pale of breaking sweat, followed by a crimson stream of blood that’d leaked from a gash on his eyebrow. It wasn’t anything serious, but it took a little more blood than normal to ‘clog’ the wound shut. Leon’s lips turned into a grin a little, wondering whether Lorenzo was a boxer? Leon had done a bit himself when he was much younger, so he had a knack for separating the goats from the sheep, wondering whether Lorenzo had any Vaseline or wax to seal shut his wound; a boxer’s best friend.

Nodding to himself, rather than the Corporal who agreed on his suggestion; having been in the desert for quite a while and already knowing the peak temperatures, Leon gave the Corporal another pat on shoulder, as he uttered out “Gut, ertönt wie ein Plan dann Körperlich”. As the Pilot stood idle for a moment, awaiting the Corporal’s subordinate to destroy his plane’s mounted gear, he couldn’t help but frown, as he watched his beautiful lady be wrecked even further… It would’ve been costly if they set the aircraft on fire, as their position would’ve been noted from miles away, so his young beauty would have to suffice without a burial. It was strange how man could become so attached to machines.

As the Corporal began to walk, the Pilot followed suit, almost tracking the Corporal’s precious shade from behind, as if scavenging any retreat from the sun, but soon enough, he began to allow the appointed male to take a little lead on their walking convoy; the young woman briskly grabbing his attention as her presence ushered up beside him. Leon’s lips coiled into a smile briefly, as he glanced towards the woman, before bowing his head down to watch his footing upon the rugged sand, listening to her speak… Question him curiously.

“Wie wurde ich hinunter geschossen? Durch jemanden, der Glück auf ihrer Seite gehabt hat…” Leon said brisk and timidly, shrugging a little to himself, not really having to say much on the situation of him being shot down. No Pilot liked talking about their failures, particularly being shot down? But soon enough, the Pilot made conversation of his own, as he took a long look at the young woman, to break another smile and say “Deshalb wie eine junge Dame wie Sie kommt trägt, ist der Mantel des Vaterlands von Armen? Die Uniformjacke eines Freunds? Ich zweifle jemand, dass so kostbarer Anschauen ein Soldat sein könnte” his words were half between a compliment, curiosity and suspicion again. He’d never seen a lady wear a uniform before? The operators and numerous woman back at higher HQ’s wore skirts, fluffed out shirts or cardigans, which made Leon wonder to himself.


Translations:[/b]

Gut, ertönt wie ein Plan dann Körperlich.
- Good, sounds like a plan then Corporal.

Wie wurde ich hinunter geschossen? Durch jemanden, der Glück auf ihrer Seite gehabt hat...
- How was i shot down? By someone who had luck on their side...

Deshalb wie eine junge Dame wie Sie kommt trägt, ist der Mantel des Vaterlands von Armen? Die Uniformjacke eines Freunds? Ich zweifle jemand, dass so kostbarer Anschauen ein Soldat sein könnte.
- So, how comes a young lady like you, is wearing the fatherland's coat of arms? A boyfriend's tunic? I doubt someone so precious looking could be a soldier.

[Christopher J. D'Dario]

OOC: In my next post I might put in some Allied NPC's, just to add a little action to wandering the desert, any objections?




CJ had taken a fare lead to the group. If he came under fire the others would have a better chance to take cover. Lorenzo knew that if CJ fell to the enemies bullets, he was not to move up and rescue him, Lorenzo knew that one loss was better then two, he would have to grab the other two, and take them out of range of the bullets, then come back to see if he could help. They had priorities, Just like the Pilot was looking after the case, Lorenzo and CJ where looking after the Pilot. The woman was just a passenger, a sad way to put it, but she was expendable.

The sun was getting lower in the sky, soon they would have to rest, at least get a few hours sleep as the Pilot had ordered. Even though he was an officer of the Sky, he still had rank, CJ could advise him on ground situations, but in the end he had to follow orders. How he hated following orders, he would see himself promoted to a Captain and lead the sheep instead of being herded. But until that day, he would follow; it was all he could do. His brothers use to alway tell him what to do, they said one day when he knew enough about the games they played he would tell them, It never happened though. As hard as CJ tried, his brothers would always take over, they would sit in the trees and light the firecrackers, give them to CJ and make him run to the mailbox. He almost burst out laughing at the memory; he had to stop walking for a few seconds to regain his composure and control before continuing.

He shook his head, what was he doing? He was thinking about home when he was walking point! How stupid, if they where ambushed he would be the first one to get killed, not just because he was walking point, but because he wasn't thinking straight. Damn this heat, it did things to a person, made his mind slip. Made his thoughts wander; at least any enemy troops would be feeling the same. He glanced back over his shoulder at the others, the pilot and the and the woman seemed deep in conversation, and Lorenzo was trailing behind, scanning the edges of the dunes and the sky, turning around every few minutes to watch their back.

When CJ turned his attention back to the sand in front of him Lorenzo picked up his pace, catching up to the other two and reaching into his back pack and pulling out a small container of wax. "Hey, Pilot mit dieser auf Ihrer Stirn, es wird die Blutung stoppen." Over time Lorenzo had noticed a few features in Wolfgang, his shoulders, arms and just his stance all seemed familiar to the Golden Glove Boxer and it had only just caught on to him that Wolfgang might very well be a boxer as well. If that where the case Lorenzo felt a bond with the Pilot, Fellow Boxers looked after each other. He handed the small container to the pilot and fell back to his old position, just in time too as CJ looked back again to check on the group, he hadn't seen Lorenzo break formation. It was going to be a long walk.





Translation:
1. Hey, Pilot use this on your forehead, it will stop the bleeding.

[seejay3]

Alena looked up into sky, the only thankful thing about today was the sun was finally going down. There was not a single cloud and the sky had begun taking on the orange glow of a sunset. She might have enjoyed the sight if she was standing on a balcony with a white dressing gown on looking out over the ocean. She had been stationed in such a place before. A German Brigadier General had been staying in a hotel on the beach. He was enjoying a week of RnR when Alena had 'accidentally' met him in a bar, the man was drunk and easily seduced, he took her back to his hotel and while he was struggling with his belt, he got his throat slit.

Alena had stood on the balcony in a white dressing gown, looking out over the sea as the sun set down, it was the most beautiful sight she had seen for a long time. The body of the General behind her, blood soaking into the carpet, but she had pushed that out of her mind, all she could do was watch the sunset. She couldn't leave anyway, there was a guard outside the door and she had to time it so the guard would think the General had fallen asleep after the sensual activities. His body did not get found for another day when the cleaning lady opened the door to find him dead on the floor. Of course by then, Elizibeth was long gone.

She was ripped from her memories as Wolfgang started speaking to her, answering her question about getting shot down. She would like to know the details, but she knew better then to press on a subject that a person was unwilling to describe in detail. When he asked her about her own uniform she smiled and let out a giggle. Did she hear a slight hint of jealously when he said the word Boyfriend? Maybe not, but she found it amusing all the same.
"Nein, das ist nicht meine Freunde, Uniform, ich habe nicht einen Partner. Diese einheitliche wurde an mich durch Fehler. Ich hatte meine normalen Uniform, aber wenn ich das Paket das ist, was ich empfängt. Ich lache, wenn ich denke, dass eine harte Soldat wurde ein Rock."

She let out a short laugh as an image of a tough German Soldier standing at attention wearing a skirt while his fellow soldiers laughed. She looked up at D'Dario and could almost picture him wearing it. "Können Sie sich vorstellen, die recht Körperlich D'Dario aussehen würde in einer Rock? Ich denke, es wäre schön mit den Beinen" She hoped the Corporal didn't hear her as she let out another giggle. The heat was getting to her again; at least it wouldn't last too much longer.



Translation:

Nein, das ist nicht meine Freunde, Uniform, ich habe nicht einen Partner. Diese einheitliche wurde an mich durch Fehler. Ich hatte meine normalen Uniform, aber wenn ich das Paket das ist, was ich empfängt. Ich lache, wenn ich denke, dass eine harte Soldat wurde ein Rock. -
No, this is not my boyfriends uniform, I do not have a partner. This uniform was sent to me by mistake. I had requested my normal uniform, but when I open the package this is what I recived. I laugh when I think that a tough soldier was sent a skirt.


Können Sie sich vorstellen, die recht Körperlich D'Dario aussehen würde in einer Rock? Ich denke, es wäre schön mit den Beinen -
Can you imagin who pretty Körperlich D'Dario would look in a skirt? I think it would match his legs nicely

[Leon Wolfgang]

OOC: No, I don’t mind. Would spice it up. Seeing as no one else is Role Playing on the board, I’m pretty sure adding ‘fake’ units would be more than welcomed.


The Flight Lieutenant’s legs dragged through the sand now and again, as he temporarily lost his placement of footing due to his strained leg in the crash. It was nothing major, their pace was more than accommodating to his needs, any faster, then Lorenzo would have to carry him - a mild humorous smile passed his lips at the thought. He found himself quite lucky, a gash across the head, a strained leg (pulled nerve) which made it a little sensitive to walk on now and again; yet he was still here. His instincts on flying low had paid off, sure, he’d be travelling slower to his destination with the risk of ground units bombarding him with rifle rounds - if he’d stumbled across any, but at least he survived the metal coffin’s death plunge.

Lorenzo almost startled the Pilot, as Leon’s body twisted and his lungs let out a quick breath of air, almost ready to struggle against someone who may’ve crept up behind them - a quick passing thought that the Private behind them could’ve been picked off silently, them being next, but as Leon’s blue eyes darted onto the brute of a male; quite easily noticeable and remember able, the Pilot gave a slight smile, wondering what was wrong? As Leon listened to the man, the Pilot almost died inside; how’d he read his thoughts!? Grasping the small container and nodded to the male with a brisk “Vielen Dank” he watched as the man fell back into formation, the Pilot’s face showing complete shock for a brief moment, feeling a little psychic?

Twisting the small container open and holding it up beneath his nostrils to take a long inhale through his nostrils, his mind fled back to his teenage years, being promptly pushed back into the corner of the ring, having his dear father and grandfather beckon to his call, smudging all sorts of waxy materials over his brow and cheek-bones. Leon never really did win many fights, in all honesty, but it certainly earned a lot of respect from his father and friends; those coward enough to enter the ring, it also taught him, physical combat wasn’t what suited him… So the Infantry was ruled out abruptly within his books.

Taking a dab with his finger into the small pot and smearing it across the side of his brow, almost enjoying the slight stinging sensation that brought back fond’ memories, he listened to the young woman speak, almost getting a little more good news - she wasn’t taken? More so, the Pilot smiled when she insinuated the dear Corporal in a skirt. Leon tried not to laugh too much, it was funny to imagine and it certainly raised his morale, but it was far from necessary. “Gut wenigstens sehen Sie gut in einer Uniform aus” Leon said a little cheekily, as he winked vaguely, before coughing to himself - trying to gain a little composure, before looking up ahead - wondering what that noise was?

Twisting the cap back onto the small container, a little awkwardly, was he juggled the briefcase within one of his hands; he twisted a little to whistle and toss it back to Lorenzo, not wanting him to get into any trouble with his comrade, who seemed to carry the pride of the two. Looking back up front again, he began to hear another noise - not really being able to make out what it was? But pulled a slight concerned look, as he glanced around…


Translations:[/b]

Vielen Dank
-Thank you.

Gut wenigstens sehen Sie gut in einer Uniform aus.
-Well, at least you look good in a uniform.

[Christopher J. D'Dario]

OOC: You can control the NPC's if you want to, This is your thread after all Wolfgang.


CJ passed into the looming shadow of a large sand dune, like a giant wave in the sand it towered above him and the others, its shadow a welcome release from the heat of the setting sun. CJ reached down to his canteen and pulled off the cap, taking a quick gulp of the warm water before placing the cap back on and hanging it at his hip again. He began the long climb to the top of the sand dune. From the top he would be able to get a good view of the surrounding area. Not that there would be much to see he guessed, sand, sand and more sand. Great holiday destination.

He looked back at the others behind him, the pilot and the woman where laughing about something, he wanted to tell them to shut it but kept that thought to himself, they had all endured a nasty time in the desert, and any relief from the stress was a welcome thing, such as laughter. But it still gave away their position. Soon he had reached the top of the dune and began a turn to get a good look at the area. He had guessed right about the sand, it seemed to stretch on forever. He had almost completed his turn when something caught his attention, three objects on top of a sand dune a short distance away.

He couldn't quite make out what they where, from this distance. So he reached into his backpack for the attachable scope to his Mauser. Upon first glance his Mauser was exactly the same as Lorenzo's, but on closer inspection his weapon had a mount fitted to the top for a scope. He clicked the scope into place tightened the bolts before bringing his newly fashioned sniper rifle to his shoulder and peering through the scope. He lowered it quickly and dropped to his stomach as a gun shot rang out over the waves of sand dunes. A point of sand not a foot away from him shot up into the air from the bullet.

CJ could recognise the rifle by the sound of its shot, a Lee Enfield. Lorenzo had dropped to his knees and moved up to a position in front of the Pilot and the woman. CJ looked down at him and held up three fingers then pointed in the direction of the enemy as a second bullet fell near him, kicking up sand. CJ returned fire before sliding down the dune to be out of their line of sight. He looked down at Lorenzo. "Ci sono tre di loro circa duecento metri di distanza." He said to Lorenzo in italian, the private crawled up the dune and peered over the sand, spotting the three and lowering his head again. "Possiamo prendere loro, noi fuori dal loro numero uno."

CJ looked at Lorenzo as if he was a fool. "Tu e io siamo gli unici che hanno una vera e propria arma, il pilota è solo una pistola, e lei ne ha disarmati. Essi ci da la numero uno." CJ looked over the sand again, the other soldiers had increased their rate of fire, bullets where beinging to hit the sand above their heads. They where being supressed. "Sposta giù la duna e si insinuano intorno a una nuova posizione, che hanno questo uno coperto. Poi un tiro di fuoco ottenere la loro attenzione." As he finished Lorenzo moved off to the left, he would draw their fire to give CJ a clear shot at one of them.

CJ looked down at the Pilot and the woman. "Machen Sie sich keine Sorgen, sind sie nicht uns" He told them, trying to reasure them. Lorenzo had found a new position; he stood up to see over the sand dune and raised his rifle, letting off a shot before dropping to the ground again. Almost instantly his position became bombarded with bullets, sand getting kicked up all around him. CJ got to his feet too, peering through the scope and finding the three US soldiers. He let his cross hair come to rest about an inch above the head of the first solider, he had to account for bullet drop. He pulled the trigger.


Translation:
1. There's three of them about two hundread yards away.

2. We can take them, we out number them by one.

3. You and I are the only ones who have a real weapon, the pilot only has a pistol, and she's unarmed. They out number us by one.

4. Don't worry, they wont get us.

[seejay3]

OOC: Short post, Im Busy.


Alena had watched with mild interest as Wolfgang had wiped some wax over his forehead. Something to do with stopping the bleeding. While he was waxing his face she looked up to D'Dario, all imaginings of him a skirt had disappeared quickly. He was climbing a sand dune, most likely to get a look of the desert. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, drawing one from the pack and lighting it. She inhaled deeply, how many times had she offered a poisoned cigarette of a target? To many to count, it was something different to watch a person taking a drag on a smoke, then falling to the ground a few minutes later clutching their chest as their heart stopped beating. Smoking does kill after all.

She didn't like killing people that way, there was no challenge in giving a smoke to a person and killing them with it, she much preferred a blade. She held out the pack toward the pilot in offering before placing the pack back in her pocket, her hand brushed against her hidden knife. How she loved her blade. There was something romantic and intimate in a knife kill. Pushing the sharp steel into flesh as the victim begged for mercy or slashing the blade across their throat, an instant kill. She sometimes wondered if these thoughts where wrong, feeling passion for a weapon of death. But the doubts where always pushed aside when she remembered the feeling of intimacy when she took a life.

She exhaled as a gun shot echoed over the sand dune and looked up to see D'Dario drop to the ground. She thought he had been shot, but she couldn't be so lucky. She too dropped into a crouched position as Pilino ran past her up to the Corporal. She listened as they spoke Italian, as a spy she was trained in all the languages of her enemies. But she didn't let on that she could understand them. All she could do was watch as Pilino moved around to fire on the Allied soldiers, drawing their attention for CJ to get a shot off. She put on a frightened look and glanced at Wolfgang.

[Leon Wolfgang]

OOC: That’s fine, welcome to control them. Who said I won’t throw a twist of my own in yet?


Walking brisk, yet slow enough that he took long strides to keep a good pace, Leon watched the young woman slip a cigarette from a packet - his eyes trailing over the brand for a brief moment, Marlboro? It was obvious they were American Cigarettes, yet the Pilot remained quiet and reframed from taking one, as he held his hand out vaguely with a shake to his head, trying to not be too conspicuous with his suspicions of the young woman. She just seemed to carry an eerie feeling? Particularly so as she wore a Man’s uniform. Which was odd, regardless if she received the wrong package.

A sudden gunshot rang through the air, sending the Flight Lieutenant into a bedazzled phase, as he dropped to one knee, clutching the briefcase tightly within the palm of his hand, whilst his other free yearning hand made swift work in yanking out his Lugar pistol. The Corporal seemed hurt for a moment, as he dropped like a swatted fly, before thankfully he began to show movement; a crawl from off the dune, which immediately suggested they were close enough, but as Leon shuffled closer, awaiting the verdict, Lorenzo brushed passed and they both began to speak a foreign tongue? Leon’s eyes narrowing a little, as he bit his own tongue, almost feeling excluded on the plan of action… Particularly so as the Corporal merely gestured they would get them; as if Leon were some passenger?

Feeling a numbness succumb to his tongue, the Pilot reframed from demanding to know the situation, as he allowed the Italians to deal with it for a brief moment, doing something important himself. Checking the straps to his brown leather briefcase, the Flight Lieutenant began to sway within his mind upon destroying the documentation or not? The young woman seemed to have a lighter or even shredding them, before pillaging the bag with sand would do the trick! They’d never be able to piece it altogether, let alone would any soldier carry a bag full of sand and ripped documents, all churned up inside… How demoralizing in this heat? So the Flight Lieutenant began to ponder meaningful ways in which he could destroy the Intel, but once again, reframed from doing so, as he watched the Italians fight.

Grunting beneath his breath slightly, Leon pushed up from off his knee, contemplating on allowing the young woman to hold the briefcase whilst he climbed up the dune to the two men - but thinking quickly, Leon briskly walked past, heck, he wasn’t even sure he’d let the Corporal or Private hold it. He only told them because he needed help; he had no other choice. Embarking up the side of the dune slightly, Leon kept his posture low, slugging his briefcase into the side of the dune beside him, whilst he squinted to look over the top a little, very quick and briefly, watching as a few men gave them a skirmish.

Glancing to the Corporal vaguely, he watched as the NCO peered down a scope, using a new found sniper of his. Leon smirked a little to himself, as he began to tactically think, suddenly shouting out towards the Corporal “Obergefreiter... Erhalten Sie ein gutes Ziel, verlasse ich mich auf Sie!” Leon had to help, it was almost like it was in his blood? Sure, he had intelligence on him, but it didn’t deny him the fact he could at least try to gain their attention, or perhaps make them think it isn’t just two against three.

Springing up from his place, Leon’s nimble finger began to swiftly jerk against the Lugar’s trigger, sending smaller crackling noises than the Rifles being used, but far more frequent crackles at once. The Pilot squinted as he took rough aim on the distant enemies, hoping they’d be a little worried for a moment they were under quick swift shots from another flank - as Leon felt the spring inside ‘clang’ against the empty chamber, after a estimated several shots, he fell back down again behind the dune, gasping as two to three rifle rounds bounced around the dune on his position, one of them barely missing him by a couple of inches, as the thick lead bullet broke through the dune’s side.


Translations:[/b]

Obergefreiter... Erhalten Sie ein gutes Ziel, verlasse ich mich auf Sie!
- Corporal... Get a good aim, i'm counting on you!

[Christopher J. D'Dario]

Lorenzo let off round after round, his bullets falling within feet of the three Alliance soldiers, The distraction Lorenzo was creating seemed to be working, two of the soldiers where concentrating their fire on him, giving CJ time to line up his second shot. The first shot had flown high; he aimed a little lower this time, about half an inch above his targets helmet and pulled the trigger. A second later the soldiers helmet backfilled off his head. The man dropped, not dead but from shock. CJ now knew how high to aim to get the bullet to cover the distance between them and do damage. His third shot would have been a kill on the second man, but something distracted him. As he pulled the trigger he heard someone talking to him, and his bullet went high again.

The Pilot was talking to him? CJ lowered himself back behind the dune and looked at the man with a blank stare. What was he doing? He was meant to be down with the girl, CJ was about to yell at him and tell him to go back when he got to his feet and started firing off his Lugar. The handgun didn't have the power of a rifle, but it seemed to serve as another distraction. CJ quickly returned his attention to the scope of his Mauser. Two of the three where now firing at the pilot, CJ took a second to line up his shot. He pulled the trigger and sent a bullet racing through the hot desert air to rip into the neck of one of the soldiers. Blood stained the sand as he squirmed a little from the pain, but soon fell limp as his heart stopped beating. One down, two to go.

CJ lowered himself back to the sand and started reloading, as he did so he looked over at Lorenzo, the private was moving around the dune, he seemed to be attempting a flanking mission on the remaining two. He looked over at the Pilot next, who was also reloading then he looked down to the woman, Alena, and was shocked to see an allied soldier sneaking up behind her. He shouted out to her, trying to warn her about the approaching enemy.