Golden Fleece

[seejay3]

Great, Elizibeth was left alone while the three 'men' went to shoot her comrades. Darn it all, if she tried to stop them from killing the Allies she would fall under suspicion, she didn't really care if the soldiers where American or British, but she did care if they where Russian. But Russian soldiers wouldn't be posted out here, she was sure of it, with that in mind she kept her mouth shut, she couldn't really do anything really other then sit and wait to see if the Alliance soldiers would kill the German and the Italians. She sighed as she remained in her crouched position. She didn't notice the shadow moving up behind her.

As CJ started reloading he started shouting something, something behind her? What? She started to turn when someone grabbed her around the neck, holding her in a one armed headlock. She felt the barrel of a weapon being pushed into her back. The soldier was holding his Lee Enfield in one hand, Alena in the other. When a weapon gets pushed into your back you stop moving, and start listening. The Soldier shout to the others in rough German. "Richten Sie Ihre Waffen oder ich schieße sie."

Elizibeth had no intention of being a bargaining chip, she had been trained in self-defence, she was in fact a martial artist. But she felt a little reluctant in hurting the soldier for the simple fact he was on her side; she was just in the wrong uniform. She wanted to whisper to the man but didn't want to risk being overheard. She had to get herself out of this situation, and try to keep this soldier alive. But he seemed to be an American, if it where a Russian he would have shot her already and then started shooting the others. She was lucky in that aspect.

She waited until he was about to shout again before spinning on her left heel, her arm swinging back to knock the barrel of the Rifle away from her. This move seemed to surprise the Soldier, as she quickly followed up with a closed fist back hand across his face, his mouth was open when she hit him so he would be lucky if his jaw didn't break, as he stumbled back she took a step forward, bringing her right leg up and delivering a snap kick to the side of his knee, causing the soldier to fall backward into the sand. Elizibeth quickly climbed on top of him, in an almost sexual position after she picked up the Lee Enfield Rifle that had been held in her back, she used the butt of the rifle to club the Soldier into unconsciousness. She remained sitting on him, breathing hard, the rifle still in her hands.




Translations:
Richten Sie Ihre Waffen oder ich schieße sie. -
Put your weapons down or I shoot her.

[Leon Wolfgang]

OOC: Sorry if my post’s a bit blah, not entirely sure what to type…

Great, Leon didn’t want to feel foolish, but neither was he about to sit back and watch two men take on numerous enemies without a little help? Like he thought, the least he could offer was a means in distracting or psyching the enemy into thinking there was more than two men on one dune, particularly when he sprung up to fire numerous rounds at the enemy, obviously showing there were three. Which could’ve made them think; ‘Wait, maybe there’s a squad behind there?’.

Clenching his eyes closed for a brief moment, as the bullets cut through the sand and embankment of dirt around him, the Pilot fiddled with the strap around his waist, slipping out another magazine slotted into an ammunition holster upon his belt. Pressing his finger up against a small lever on the side of the Lugar pistol, he allowed the empty cartridge to collapse against his lap, before thumping in a new magazine into it’s place, yanking back the large cumbersome bolt on top to load a new round into the chamber, before ravelling his nimble fingers back around the cold steel grip once again.

Leon’s blue eyes darted up towards the Corporal after another spiralling shot had been made, his body pushing against the sand as he leaned his head up slightly to just catch a glimpse of someone slithering down behind the sand, embracing their throat. A hard breath left the Pilot’s lips as he slowly began to wonder upon another plan of action, he wasn’t sure the surprise distraction technique would work again, they knew he was there and more so, they’d be more inclined to take evasive action when they fired. They obviously had a sharp shooter on their team, something the enemy would fear…

As the Corporal shouted something out, Leon’s eyes drifted about for a brief moment, wondering what he was shouting about? Alena… As the Pilot twisted onto his back, looking down towards the young woman who had someone perched up behind her, the Pilot made haste in grasping the briefcase, shuffling it up behind his back roughly, obviously showing compassion in protecting it - his Lugar drifted from his waist slightly, taking rough aim on the male, Leon knew he wouldn’t get a precise hit without fault from his position, so he awaited another move of action, which remarking was Alena’s… Leon’s eyes widened slightly, as she began to dislodge the rifle and knock him down, before finally straddling the man’s hips and thumping him unconscious with his own rifle.

The Flight lieutenant glanced between the Corporal and Alena for a brief moment, before pushing off the dune (leaving the briefcase in toe), to briskly make his way down to the young woman, who presumably would’ve been safe? Standing over the woman vaguely, he reached out to grasp the rifle within her grip, as if to say - ‘no more’. “Sie stimmen zu?” Leon asked quietly, before letting go of the rifle slightly, hoping she wasn’t about to club him some more. Reaching down towards her arm a little, he began to gently pull, insinuating she came with him, obviously not being safe at the bottom of the dune anymore.

Softly pulling at Alena’s arm, hoping to pride her up and off the male, he began to feel something grapple around his ankle? Only as he turned to look, he found the male - who was unconscious? Grabbing at his feet, yanking Leon’s legs from off the sand, pretty easily as the sand didn’t offer much friction, the sand rolling right out from beneath his feet, the pilot falling beside the Allied male who quickly made haste in clambering onto him, grabbing for his throat, leaving Leon’s hands grabbing at the brute’s in return -- his Lugar missing!? But pushed onwards empty handed, as Leon managed to push the man backwards onto his back, leaning over him, grunting hard as he choked the man in sheer anger, the weak male soon letting go, as his arms flopped beside him - the Pilot finishing him off…


Translations:

Sie stimmen zu?
You okay?

[Christopher J. D'Dario]

OOC: If you want to add a few more NPC Soldiers go for it.

There was something wrong with this picture. Alena, a woman, had beaten an alliance soldier to near death with his own rifle. CJ had never seen anything like it before. He remained in his position as the pilot went down the hill to the female. How strange, it seemed that there was more to Alena then met the eye. It was a strange thing watching something so pretty looking doing something as savage as mounting someone and beating in their head with a weapon. The Pilot seemed to try and take the weapon from her, to try and stop her hitting the soldier. Seemed that was a mistake.

Lorenzo had turned around as well and the two of them watched as the pilot wrestled with the Alliance soldier, a smile broke over both their faces as the Pilot overpowered the soldier and strangled him to death. Lorenzo nodded with approval at the pilot’s actions. Then another problem filtered though CJ's mind. No one was shooting anymore. The air that had been filled with bullets was now clear once again. CJ pushed himself against the sand and raised his head up over the dune. There had been two soldiers on last count. Those two soldiers had given up their positions and where now advancing toward the sand dune where they where all hiding.

The soldier that had snuck up on them must have been part of their plan, three people distract the enemy while one sneaks around and takes them prisoner or shoots them. It seemed the other troops believed their little plan had worked, and now they where advancing to aid their comrade in securing the prisoners. Lorenzo had also seen the approaching soldiers. With a hand he motioned to Lorenzo, on the count of three they would both jump up and pump as many bullets into the approaching soldiers as it would take to kill them.

CJ counted down with his fingers and with a bob of his head. Three.... Two.... One.... Together they both jumped to their feet, their rifles already at their shoulders, the two approaching soldiers where caught by surprise, a look of shock and horror fell over their faces, soon followed by pain as the hot steel from the Mausers ripped into their chests. They fell against the sand, and lay still. Lorenzo climbed over the side of the dune and walked down to the soldiers. Putting a bullet in the base of each of their skulls, just to make sure they where dead while CJ looked back down the dune to the other two. "Wir müssen gehen! Es könnte mehr von ihnen.." They had only killed four soldiers; a normal patrol consisted of six men. If that where the case here, there where still two more enemy soldiers in the area.




Translation:
1. We have to go! There could be more of them.

[seejay3]

Alena flinched as a hand grabbed at the rifle in mid-swing, she turned, expecting another Alliance soldier to be trying to help his friend, but relaxed slightly when she came face to face with the pilot. She still held the rifle with an iron grip as Wolfgang tried to pull her off the soldier, his hands where soft against her arm, she reluctantly got to her feet, in the hopes he would still hold her when she was up. But as she got off the soldier he made a move, grabbing Wolfgang’s leg and tripping him over. She took a few steps away as the Alliance soldier jumped on top of Wolfgang. Fumbling with the rifle as she loaded a bullet into the chamber. How she hated rifles, stupid looking things, shotguns where more her tastes. Pump a round into the barrel and pull the trigger. They made a nice little mess of whoever you where aiming at. A rifle just left a hole.

As she brought the rifle up to her shoulder and started yelling at the man to get off Wolfgang she was a little surprised to see that the tables had turned. Wolfgang had thrown the soldier off and had his hands wrapped around his throat. Soon the soldier stopped struggling as his life ended. Alena dropped to her knees in the sand, what had she done. She had not only beat an Alliance soldier in the head with his own rifle, but she was watched as a German strangled the life out of him, and did nothing to stop it. She had been in the desert far too long. Her hands started shaking, they still clutched the soldier’s rifle, she would not let it go. Her head lowered as a tear fell from her cheek. What had she done, war was hell. She had to act like a German to survive, she was use to talking about killing Alliance soldiers, calling them scum. But this was the first time she had ever watched as a German killed an Alliance soldier, and she did nothing to stop it.

She wiped the tear away, if anyone had seen it she would say it was due to fear. But a series of gunshots caught her attention, she looked up as D'Dario and Pilino stood up and started firing over the sand dune, then watched as Pilino walked over the dune and disappeared. Two more gunshots echoed around the area, and she knew there where two more dead Soldiers on the other side of the dune. She struggled to control the shaking of her hands and looked down at the rifle; she decided she would keep it. Reaching over to the dead soldier next to her she pried his ammunition belt off; she wanted to take his dog tags, to know who she had let die. But knew it would be a foolish thing to do. She looked up at the men around her, Wolfgang, Pilino and D'Dario. All three would be celebrating this victory. She would need all her acting skills to fit in.

[Leon Wolfgang]

OOC: Thanks. I spiced it up a little again. =]

As the Pilot leaned over the Allied soldier, who began to abruptly turn pale beneath the grasp of his hands wrapped around his jugular, Leon’s face began to drop, the man’s forever staring eyes bulging wide red, looking straight at him. The Flight Lieutenant had been in a state of frenzy for the brief moment, a sense of survival must’ve come over him? He’d never killed someone before, face to face, not even at arm’s length. Only now Leon began to realise the sheer pain and anguish the poor soldiers must’ve gone through, how ignorant he must’ve sounded earlier, arguing with the Corporal who experienced different scenarios to him… Actually feeling and seeing his comrades die beside him, whilst Leon only had to listen…

Slowly releasing his grasp from the male’s throat, who now held a strain of patchy red finger marks against his flesh, Leon cuffed his forearm up against his mouth, where a spatter of spit had formed from his hardened rage in killing the enemy. Falling back against his bottom and taking a few deep breaths, the Pilot slowly glanced around, feeling a little a woozy again, as blood began to rush to his head; the once clogged wound leaking a little more claret again, as his firm temples thumped real hard within the confines of his skull.

The gunshots behind him did however awake him from a slight mesmerised state of mind, as he suddenly muttered something to himself, patting his hands around his body for his gun, finding the pistol half dug into the sand - one of them must’ve stepped or laid on it during the onslaught, as Leon yanked it out of the sand, shaking the barrel somewhat, looking up towards the Corporal who shouted something on moving out? Leon couldn’t agree more, as he pushed against the ground, slowly standing, feeling the young woman brush past him towards the Allied soldier, fiddling with his belt… Only now, the Pilot began to realise… How did she fend’ him off? He wasn't particularly skinny or small, but brushing the thoughts aside, he coiled his hand up beneath her arm slightly, softly pulling once again in a gesture as he spoke “Kommen Sie... Wir müssen gehen”, before he gently let go, hurrying as best he could towards the dune in which the two soldiers were stood tall against.

Dragging his feet up through the sand, Leon inhaled deeply, stopping slowly as he approached the Corporal, nodding somewhat as he looked around for his bag… Which didn’t seem to be there anymore? Glancing to the Corporal and Lorenzo a little bemused and worried, he uttered out with a slight stammer “T-derjenigen Sack, wo ist es!?”, looking slightly worried, Leon’s eyes darted around, noticing a drag mark off towards the side of the dune, where he presumably had his briefcase dug in. Quickly pushing off his feet, stumbling a little through the sand, he peered over the side of the dune, watching as two males hurried away, lugging something along with their arms, which must’ve been his briefcase!?

“Obergefreiter! Dort!” the Pilot shouted out, as he pointed roughly, before quickly making haste in hunting them, his feet skidding and slipping down the side of the steep dune, wondering how they knew to take it!? Perhaps they intercepted his message on the radio before he crashed!? Who knows, but all Leon did know, was that they were hurrying away quite fast with valuable intelligence, but soon had to stop and duck as one of them swung around with what seemed to be a Thompson SMG, spraying numerous bullets towards his position, the sand cascading around him like hailstones. The man with the SMG must’ve held his fire within the prior combat, perhaps to reserve his ammo or surprise them - like now! The SMG wasn’t a long distance weapon after all.


Translations:[/b]

Kommen Sie... Wir müssen gehen.
- Come... We must go.

T-derjenigen Sack, wo ist es!?
- T-The bag, where is it!?

Obergefreiter! Dort!
- Corporal! There!

[Christopher J. D'Dario]

OOC: Nice twist.


CJ was watching Lorenzo search the bodies for trophies, the private had taken both their watches already and was now searching through their pockets, he pulled out a letter from one of the men’s breast pockets. It was probably a letter home, Lorenzo tossed it over his shoulder and continued his search. He pulled off a wedding ring and found a religious cross around one of their necks. "Wo ist euer Gott jetzt?" He muttered as he finished removing the valuables, he slipped the ring on his finger and pocketed the rest. He walked up to CJ and pulled out the few items from his pocket, handing them over to the Corporal.

CJ shifted through the items, there was a photo of one of the soldiers as well as a little girl, most likely his daughter. She looked about six years old. CJ continued looking though, there where a few more photos, but nothing else worth taking. He looked at the photo again, now the little girl would grow up without a father, she would never know how he died, where he died or who killed him. The American Government would most likely make up some story about the soldier dieing in a major attack that would bring them closer to winning the war. Ha, stupid Americans, they had no chance in winning this war.

CJ let the items fall to the sand. He looked up at Lorenzo and smiled. "Dove hai trovato una moglie?" He joked pointing to the Wedding ring on his finger. Lorenzo was about to comment when the Pilots words reached him. Something about the briefcase? CJ looked around to where he had last seen it. There where markings in the sand. As the pilot ran to the top of the dune CJ started following, the Pilot shouted and pointed, CJ followed his finger and spotted the other two Alliance soldiers making a mad dash for freedom. Lorenzo brought up his rifle and started shooting just as one of the Americans turned and let loose a barrage of bullets from a SMG at the Pilot.

CJ stopped dead in his tracks, bringing up his own rifle and peering through the scope. He looked past the shooter and brought his cross hairs to rest on the retreating form of the other man who seemed to be clutching the briefcase, CJ picked a spot just below the base of the soldiers skull and pulled the trigger. His bullet ripped though the air toward the soldier, but the wind was kicking up and drove the bullet off corse, it struck the soldier in his right shoulder instead of hitting him in the back of the neck.

OOC: These two NPC's are yours, you can decide how bad the damage is and their next course of action.


Translation:

1. Where's your god now?

2. Where did you find a wife?

[seejay3]

OOC: Im trying my best to interact with the action. I hope I'm doing ok.

Alena was once again gently pulled away from the body of the American. For some reason she was enjoying the touch from the Pilot. His hands where soft, unlike a soldiers hands. She snapped herself out of those thoughts. This heat was still getting to her. Even with the setting sun it was still hot. As she stood she clipped the Ammo belt around her waist. She was looking more and more like a soldier with each passing moment, she was now armed with a rifle, as well as wearing a males military uniform. Now that she thought about it, why the hell was she in a male uniform? What was going through the minds of her superiors when they gave her this outfit?

She started following Wolfgang, he and D'Dario seemed to want to move away from the area quickly. Well it seemed like a good idea. She had no intention of being taken captive again and being used as a bargaining chip. Even though that hadn’t worked for the soldier now laying dead in the sand. A sudden shouting caught her attention, the pilot was yelling about his bag and had run up the sand dune. She followed at a distance and stopped when he pointed over the other side of the dune. A few seconds later more gunshots filled the desert air. D'Dario and Pilino where already returning fire.

Alena ran to the top of the dune and brought her Lee Enfield up to her shoulder, she would not shoot the soldiers, but shoot at them, she had no intention of killing the Alliance soldiers, but perhaps if they knew they where outnumbered they would flee, they would take the briefcase and run. It obviously held some very important documents if Wolfgang was so protective of it. Again and again she pulled the trigger, her bullets falling short a good few feet of the soldiers. She hated long-range weapons; she hated rifles and even pistols. If she had to choose a firearm it would be a Shotgun. God she loved those weapons.

[Leon Wolfgang]

OOC: Sorry if I’ve sort of ran off, Leon’s a bit insane from the heat & you may control the outcome of the Soldier/s at the end of my post. =) Don’t wait on me to control them or make a verdict.


The Pilot was adamant on getting the briefcase back, but he surely didn’t realise the fleeing men’s ambitions on keeping it safe, as the prior hail of SMG bullets wreaked around him, causing the Flight Lieutenant to drop like a bag of bricks and huddle into an embankment of sand, gritting his teeth as the hailstone of lead showered around him - the man couldn’t have been taking appropriate aim, a more rushed and quick spray of fire on their rear flank to keep them covered, as Leon laid dormant a few seconds after the firing had seized, twisting onto his back slightly, patting down his body with a remarkable gleam on his face. How on Earth had he not got hit!?

Brushing the questions and curiosity aside, his fingers entwined around the pistol again, his jaw becoming firm as he began a countdown within his mind, before springing up - a little more cautiously this time, as he trotted along the gleaming sand with a low posture, hard breathing beckoning from his breath and that apparent light headedness coming over him again. Heck’ the Pilot felt like he was having one hell of a bad day, he hadn’t entirely recovered just yet from the crash and further more, his strained leg slowed him down a little, as he tried to hurryingly advance on the enemy, without being seen too much…

The gunfire zipping over his head hadn’t really caught his attention, indeed, Leon was so brazen on getting the briefcase back, he must’ve seemed like a mad-man! Rushing on the enemy’s flank, a lurch’er within their shadows. The heat had certainly driven him insane, months of the humid temperature had him laughing some nights to himself as he laid in bed, thinking of funny times back home, so it was to no avail or surprise he’d be chasing two enemy soldiers, fully well knowing the other’s weren’t chasing them, but at least they hailed a covering fire from above, right? He just prayed they didn’t hit him in the process.

As one of the bullets whizzed by Leon’s body, the Pilot staggered a little, watching as one of the men fell to the ground, a spatter of blood flowing into the air simultaneously, his comrade with the SMG seemed to quickly rush by his side, totally oblivious to the firing going on - the Americans were pathetic for saving their comrades. Why did they always risk their own lives to save another? You would’ve thought the primitive nation, America, would’ve learnt better by taking note from other nations through the decades, but no, the one last healthy male fell by his comrade’s side, trying to yank him too his feet, which gave the lurking scorpion a small chance…

Grunting beneath his breath, the Flight Lieutenant suddenly sprung out from his makeshift cover of sand on their rear, having followed quickly, his feet briskly moving through the sand, the limp appearing within a few of his quick steps - yet he didn’t falter to keep his balance and speed. “SIE SIND MISCHLING HUNDE!” he shouted out from the pit of his lungs, his face a strain of red from the sheer madness, as he swung his arm up, capping his finger against the trigger, sending three, perhaps four bullets into the wounded male trying to stagger to his feet, before Leon’s arm briskly turned on the man trying to wield his SMG again, gagging for breath as he panicked in doing so.

Yanking his finger against the trigger again, the Pilot managed to get a quick estimated shot out as he swung his arm towards the man with the SMG, watching as he yelped and staggered back, the bullet lodging somewhere within his abdomen, but as Leon went to pull the trigger again - it didn’t budge!? The trigger was stuck and Leon’s eyes darted to his pistol, seeing a red-hot empty cartridge stuck half in and out of the chamber, unsuccessfully reloading. The heat must’ve expanded the metal, causing the jam, as both of Leon’s hands began to yank at the cumbersome bolt on the back of his Lugar, unable to lodge it free!

Glancing to the American, who was wounded, but still standing, he watched as the man weakly began to draw his arms up with the SMG. Leon began to think fast - Did the Corporal have an Aim on him!? Or was the Corporal advancing by now, not exactly pointing his weapon in the process… Which made Leon briskly do one thing, as he yelled loudly and ran towards the man, throwing himself at him, the pair of them mingling down out of sight, rolling down another steep dune the men were about to cross over, tumbling to the bottom, grappling onto one another.

Translations:[/b]

SIE SIND MISCHLING HUNDE!
- YOU MONGREL DOGS!

[Christopher J. D'Dario]

The empty shell ejected from the breach as CJ pulled back to bolt of his Mauser Sniper Rifle. A second bullet slid into the firing chamber as he pushed the bolt forward again and locked it into place. He brought the rifle up to his shoulder and peered though the scope, from this position on the dune he had a good line of sight on the two enemy soldiers. A small grin crossed CJ's face as he watched the pilot hammer a few rounds into the wounder soldier as his friend tried to help him. But a look of concern fell over his face as he stopped firing and started fiddling with his pistol.

CJ swung his rifle to the left, bringing the cross hair to hover on the remaining soldier who was bringing up his SMG. CJ was about to pull the trigger and knock the SMG out of the soldier’s hands when someone moved into his line of sight. His finger moved away from the trigger as he watched the pilot crash tackle the soldier, the pair of them tumbling over the side of the dune and disappearing from sight. CJ turned to Lorenzo and shouted "Lorenzo! Scendere lì, doppio tempo!" The private did not need to be told twice, he took off at a sprint down the side of the dune and was legging it over toward the pilot within seconds. Lorenzo was not built like a soldier, He did not have a lot of muscle mass, but he was one of the fastest people CJ had seen, he covered the distance in a very short time.

While Lorenzo was running CJ looked back at Alean. "Komm, wir gehen zu müssen." He shouted out to her before he started off running down the dune. He was not as quick as Lorenzo was. The private had already disappeared over the dune and was charging down toward the Alliance soldier, his bayonet drawn and attached to the end of his Mauser. CJ got to the top of the dune just in time to see Lorenzo kick up a storm of sand as he slid to a stop in front of the two wrestling men, his weapon raised high ready to thrust the sharp bayonet into the side of the alliance soldier.





Translation:
Lorenzo! Scendere lì, doppio tempo!-
Lorenzo! Get down there, double time!

Komm, wir gehen zu müssen.-
Come on, we have to go too.

[seejay3]

Alena was getting sick of being told she had to go. They had been repeating themselves for a while now, saying they have to go, they have to move, it’s not a good idea to stay here. Not like there was much of a choice in destination. This sand dune or that one. No wonder the Axis armies where more of a ramshackle group of peasants. They had horrible leaders. Alena had fired off a few more shots before Wolfgang had tackled the last remaining Alliance soldier and disappeared over the side of a dune.

She followed D'Dario as he made his way to the fight, it would be a wrestling match between the pilot and the soldier. She had her money on the soldier winning; the last he choked to death had taken a few good hits in the head with the butt of a rifle before dieing. This soldier had only been shot. But still, Wolfgang had shown a certain bloodlust that Elizibeth sort of took a liking too. She had her own reputation in her espionage agency. They use to say if want someone assassinated send a spy, if you want someone butchered send E. Towers. She had a certain elegant savagery that most other spy’s lacked, and she used it well. While D'Dario and Pilino went to assist Wolfgang with the fight Alena went to the dead body still holding the briefcase.

She shoved the body off the case and examined it, a very simple lock was all that stopped her from seeing its contents. She looked up toward D’Dario; he was the only one in sight, the others where down the dune fighting with the soldier. Alena smiled and quickly cracked the simple code on the lock, opening the case she gasped at what she found. Detailed photos and maps marking Alliance defensive positions and German advancements all along the border and much more. This kind of Intel would be worth a lot and could do some major damage if the Germans got their hands on it.

She looked around again, the others where still occupied with the fight. She had to make sure this Intel didn't get into the hands of the German Generals. She had to destroy it and make it look like an unfortunate accident. Maybe she could bury it here under the sand? No, they would dig it up, she had to wait until she could destroy it without drawing attention. She closed the case and locked it, the picked it up and walked over to D'Dario to watch the fight.

[Leon Wolfgang]

OOC: Sorry if my post is a bit, blah.

Leon’s head snapped back as the Soldier with the SMG clunked it up against his chin, the Pilot’s teeth chattering inside a little as he tried to avoid his tongue getting in the way of the clunking teeth. His skull throbbed for a brief second, his hands slightly loosening on the male’s tunic, his vision doubled, but Leon’s sill somehow had priority of the situation, as he felt his body leaning down against the wounded man, thankfully landing on top of the male when they’d stridden down the side of the dune in a tumble.

Clasping the male’s webbing, trying to hold on as the soldier wriggled and frantically lashed about beneath him, Leon’s body pushed in, using his weight to hold him still best he could. The man was horrified to be in the situation, his face grim with fear, his hands clambering around his SMG - totally unaware how easily he could shoot the Pilot on top of him, as he instead pushed the wood and metal against Leon’s chest, trying to pride him off. The Pilot had a steady grip and his weight helped, leeching onto the male best he could, trying to get his Barings back from the thrust to his jaw the male daringly made within the heat of the moment.

The struggling man soon became tired, as he wimpered and gasped for breath, Leon’s head shaking a little as he shook off the groggy feeling of taking a putt to the jaw. Grasping the man vigerously at the throat, the Pilot grunted hardily as he pulled and pushed the man’s head back and forth into the sand, sending bales of the gritty gold dust into his face, as he shook and thudded his head backwards into the hot beverage of sand. Blinding and causing the male to become disorientated, his arms flailing up against Leon’s chest, the Pilot glanced around quickly, his pistol dug into the sand again a few feet away - perhaps too far to reach it, as Leon gave a despairing look, before a shadow cascaded over them - the Nazi’s frantic eyes darting towards Lorenzo who stumbled into the scene, thankful to see a friendly face.

Gazing down towards the male again, he watched as the brute beneath him choked on the sand falling into his mouth, his eyes clenched shut from the sand trailing down his face already and his body hot and wet from the heat beneath him. Slowly, Leon let go from grasping onto his tunic and sat back against the man’s thighs, taking a few deep breaths, before grabbing the SMG that’d fallen at their sides to swing outwards - throwing it away!? “Schießen Sie ihn nicht…” Leon said between a hard pant of breath, holding his hand up towards Lorenzo who may’ve been urged to shoot now he’d leaned back, giving a clear view of the man’s torso. “Wir müssen herausfinden... Wenn es mehr gibt…” the Pilot trailed out afterwards, his eyes draping closed now and again, panting for breath still, totally sucked from energy.

Throwing his hand down into the man’s hair, he knotted a grip into his thick skull and yanked upwards to tug the man’s head from out of the sand, watching as he coughed and spattered out whimpering words. Looking off towards Lorenzo, he pulled a slight confused look, uttering out “Sie sprechen Englisch? Soldat” Obviously, the Pilot’s scheme on interrogating him a little didn’t look too good, as he himself didn’t speak the Western Lingo they used.


Translations:[/b]

Schießen Sie ihn nicht...
- Don’t shoot him…

Wir müssen herausfinden... Wenn es mehr gibt...
- We need to find out... If there's more...

Sie sprechen Englisch? Soldat
- You speak English? Soldier

[PuNk! ™]

Thread Closed: Due to Inactivity.

The following CP has been awarded;

• Leon Wolfgang: 40CP
  ~ Due to good Role Playing & handling the situation well.
  
  
• Elizibeth Towers: 27CP
  ~ Concealed her identity well & made efforts into sabotaging the Allied Info.
  
  
• Christopher James D'Dario: 40CP
  ~ Also role played well & showed a compliance to the chain of command/ranking during combat.
  

~Danny