[author's note] translations at the bottom. I'm a bit in a hurry, if I forgot something, please tell me, I'll add it around Tuesday ^^ [/author's note]
Snowbowl 14 – Be prepared
"Well, well, well. Good to see you, Wagner. I wished to have a word with you."
Wagner closed the door behind him, staring at the man sitting behind the desk. Although his face showed an oddly satisfied grin, the contempt in his eyes he couldn't hide.
"What do you want, Smith? I'm busy." Wagner walked up to the table, not even trying to ban the impatience from his voice. This sickening smile, present as usual in Smith's face, aggravated him, how much did he wish to simply punch his superior's face until nothing was left than a bloody mess. Somehow it wouldn't have surprised him if the smile remained anyway, would probably still be there when this idiot's body had been burnt to nothing but ashes.
"Wagner, my faithful, loyal servant. Don't think I don't appreciate your efforts, but... I can't seem to find any results." Smith stated, his voice sweet. His visitor raised his eyebrows.
"Mr. Smith, I don't know what you are talking about, everything is according to plan, even more so, I really don't know..." But Smith interrupted him, his fist suddenly hitting hard on the desk, causing several half-molten ice cubes to clink against the otherwise empty glass.
"They are still alive, Wagner! If everything is according to plan, how can it be that there isn't a dead body yet?" he almost shouted, turning his smiling face into an obscure grimace.
Wagner shook his head disbelievingly. "Sir, it's a test of skills! If it were only about killing them, we could have done so before we picked them up like lost tourists." His own anger level rising, he took a step back, glaring at Smith with unshielded disgust. "This is MY game! How should we ever compare..."
"This is not YOUR game! This is your job, and you do what I tell you, understood, Wagner? I won't allow anymore shenanigans, finish your job, and that's it!"
"Sir, listen to me, please! Forgive me my insolence, but there's something important we have to take into account!" Faking meekness, Wagner slightly bowed, his voice low, suddenly nothing but a devoted subordinate.
"That's more like it. You know, I've been doubting your loyalty recently, you seem to become rather rebellious. Don't forget your place, Wagner! I am the boss. You," he snorted, "you are nothing but a tool. Go on, amuse me."
"Too kind, Sir, too kind. Please, Sir, remember your dear aunt, who loves her only nephew so much, remember how much money she invested into this project. The money all the other investors put into this! They wouldn't be satisfied if we had killed them at day 1, wouldn't they think all their financial expenditures were wasted? If it only takes a few bullets or a bit of poison? Wouldn't they feel scammed, victims of fraud, if the report was that short? Imagine, who would they blame! Your poor aunt! What if she loses her position, what would happen to the company... what would happen to you? If I don't live up to their expectations, what would happen to all of us? Please, Mr. Smith, only a bit more time, maybe three days, this should be enough to satisfy them..." Oh, it was so easy. Just feed this idiot with the words he wants to hear, make him feel he's actually important and as great as he thinks. Wagner didn't even have to listen, he knew what his boss' answer would be.
Smith considered those words for a moment. He was sick of this voyage. Though his accommodations were rather agreeable, his surroundings bored him. Dirty mercenaries, low ranked subordinates – tools -, this was no company he usually accepted. No place to go, no inspiring conversations. It made him want to tear his hair out! Or it would, if he weren't so proud of his flaxen curls. It was about time that this stupid job ended, the sooner the better. But what this tool said, well. He couldn't just brush it off lightly. There were certain expectations to be met, large amounts of money were involved, as was the influence of many important names. Smith didn't like the idea to upset those names, his place was among them, and he couldn't afford to loose his aunt's protecting hand. With a sigh, he leaned back into his chair.
"Well, Wagner, I congratulate you, you can think, not a very common ability among my subordinates I regret to say. I allow you to play your game a bit longer, three days! Then, I want them dead, so we can finally speed the train up again and return. Do not fail, or you will be body No. 10, did I make myself clear?"
"Clear as day. Thank you, Sir, thank you so much. I won't disappoint you. I leave now, so much work to do." The slim man bowed again, hiding a dark smile from his boss' eyes when he turned around and went for the door. Too easy. Everything was so easy. Oh yes, everything went according to his plans indeed.
x x x x x x
„Ah, zere you are, is our Engineer well, Medic?" Spy met the doctor and the Engineer in the corridor, both looking a bit tired, but not all too concerned, the white, clean bandages around the Texan's shoulder contrasting his blood covered shirt and skin. His face was a bit pale, but otherwise he seemed alright. Medic's air of satisfaction confirmed this impression.
"Did zhe Soldier send you? Does he need somezhing?" the German asked while the three of them walked towards the first wagon.
"Non, mon ami, Monsieur Soldier wants us to meet in the first half of zis compartment, and ordered me to tell you. Eh voilà, zat's why I am ici." He took an implied bow. "And here we are, n'est-ce pas? Let us see what our friend has to say."
Medic pulled a grimace when they entered the conference room. It was unusually lively in here, with all the men sitting and talking around the table, but he couldn't shed the memory of the night when he rested here after the attack. Too well he remembered the revived shadows and pictures in his minds, the feeling of helplessness, the fear when he awoke. His eyes searched for the Sniper. The Australian was, even for his standards, extraordinarily grumpy today. Beside their fight in the morning they hadn't talked much since that night. As a matter of fact, Sniper hadn't talked much with anyone, and if he did, his answers were short.
'Ich frage mich...' but he didn't finish his thought when his unfocused gaze was answered by shaded eyes, glancing above the rim of Sniper's favorite coffee mug. "Impertinent fool." the German growled to himself, turning away, and finally sat down between the Engineer and Pyro.
Soldier was exchanging some quick, worried words with the Texan, when he noticed that everyone was present by now. He cleared his throat and started to speak.
"Let's make this short. Obviously, someone is out to get us, one by one. I don't know if he really wants to kill or to play with us. Either way, this cannot be tolerated. We must stop this before one of us is killed."
Mumbling voices agreed with him.
„Aye, what's yer idea, Soldier? What shall we do 'bout it? Wait? Ye better remember me can't be with all of ye all the time to save ye asses." Demo grinned smugly, but sure nobody mistook this for light-headedness. The sound of his words made it clear – the next time, he wanted to blow something, or rather someone, else up instead of a fireplace or a sentry. He, too, was itching to get his hands on their enemy.
"Coming to that, Demo. I say, we waited long enough, waited since summer. I cannot believe that Smith is responsible for the recent events, at least I doubt he executed them, but he sure knows what's going on.
That's our objective. Get out of here, get Smith, get answers. Heavy here," he nodded at the Russian, "and I discussed how we will proceed.
Listen.
There could be an ambush waiting for us. But after all, if they just wanted to kill us, they could have done so easily, instead we are attacked one by one. So I don't think it's likely, but we do not know.
Whatever, we have to break through their defense, that is, the locked door. Demo, that's our job. Scout, Medic, I want you to guard the doorway between compartment one and two. Pyro, you stay between us, so you can join either side if necessary, and keep an eye on our supply room. Engineer, well... our initial plan was to have you set up one or two defensive devices, but now..."
With a sigh, Engineer shrugged, flinching when his injured shoulder moved. "Ah gonna try, my good hand's fine, yeah, ah can definitely do something, but dunno how fast..."
"I vill not have you strain your arm, Herr Engineer." the Medic's voice interrupted firmly.
"Neither will I." Soldier added. "Okay, Medic, you think you can have an eye on him? When he's overdoing it, call him to rest, and he has to listen."
"Yeah, just go on, treatin' me as ah'm not even here, Yankee..."
"Anyway." ignoring the last remark, Soldier continued. "Heavy stays right behind Demo and me, ready to fire, just in case."
Now it was Sniper, who broke in. "Oi, I hope somethin' left for me, mate. Start feelin' my skills ain't of no use to yer guys anymore, and this's pissin' me off..."
"Stop whining, I was coming to that. You and Spy, you will come from above."
"Eh, what?"
"Pardon-moi?"
Soldier almost chuckled at their simultaneous reaction.
"I want you two to climb the train. You are going to walk above our heads, and try to find another way inside. Sneak in, silence whoever stands in your way. We do not know where we will find Smith, so if we attack from two different directions, different styles, it's more likely we will surprise them. Just make sure you stay in the shadows. You think you are up to it?"
"Bloody hell, yeah!" Sniper almost jumped from his seat, but regained his composure at once. "No problem. Gonna do it, gonna work this out. Rely on us. Right, spook?" He glanced at the Spy, who nodded.
"Bien. Pas de problème at all. What will we do once we find Smiz?"
"Question him, of course, and then," Soldier grinned diabolically, "then we highjack this goddamned train."
x x x x x x
"How can ya still smoke, Spy, not 'fraid it might blow ya up 'gain?" Sniper was watching how Pyro worked on the ceiling. Inhaling the smoke coming from the man standing next to him, he yearned for a cigarette.
"Non. Zis man had only tried once, he does not seem to hit ze same man twice. And our friends, zey checked. Moi, I am not afraid." He jumped to the side when a piece of metal came down. The wood-panels that covered the ceiling had been removed, revealing the exterior wall, consisting of iron. Under the Engineer's instruction Pyro had modified his weapon by combining the gasoline tank with an oxygen bottle they had found between the Medic's tools, and improvising a flame cutter. The pressure was a bit too low to have it work properly, but it was strong enough to slowly cut through the metal. Soon spark flew around, igniting the red carpet and upholstery when they landed. Spy and Sniper assisted by extinguishing them before they could inflame anything.
"There ain't really nothing workin' ya up, right?"
"Non." Smiling, Spy blew a cloud of smoke into the Australian's face. "Do you wish to have one of zese, mon Sniper? I does not mind sharing." he offered generously.
"Pah." The Australian snorted. "Okay, gimme a fag, thanks mate." He snatched the cigarette from the French's hand and lit it right away with a match Spy handed him.
"Ah, that's heaven, mate, that's heaven."
"'ut 'o 'e 'way!" shouted the muffled voice above them, and just when they jumped aside, a large plate of iron, still glowing at its edges, fell down and landed at their feet.
"Bloody... Pyro! Ya wanna kill us?" Sniper exclaimed in surprise and gave the piece of junk a kick.
"Hey, are ya listenin' to... Pyro?"
"'ome up! 'urry! 'ou 'ave t' 'ee 'at!" The short man had half disappeared through the hole, his feet dangling in the air. Fresh air came in and the noises of the traveling train.
"What is it, Monsieur Pyro? Qu'est-ce que vous trouvez?" Spy stood right under Pyro, staring upwards.
"Outta my way, lemme have a look." Sniper pushed the French aside, not hearing the protesting, hissed curse, and climbed on the chair Pyro had stood on before. Balancing on the chair-back, he joined the masked man. The wind almost blew his hat away, so he held it in place.
"HOLY...!"
"'eauti'ul, eh?"
Both men hung at the edge of the hole, facing the direction the train came from. Around them, the wasteland stretched as far as the horizon. The sky clear, the sun already gone, and a purple half moon rising, neither day nor night, twilight colored the world with its eerie light. Here and there, were the sky was darker, bright stars could be seen, harbingers of the lurking darkness.
The snow was gone, this was more like the Dustbowl area they were used to, sand everywhere, yet the desert wasn't as dead as it should be. Withered, bare trees were scattered through the landscape, little groves of dry bushes here and there. Large, abstract formats of rocks and boulders rushed by their eyes as the train drove on.
"What is this?" Sniper whispered in amazement. "Where's the snow, where are we..."
"Move aside, boys, comin' up!" Engineer's voice could be heard from inside, as well as the muttered calls from Soldier who told the Texan to be careful and better stay down at all.
"Come here, gonna help ya up. Whoa!" While Sniper lifted the Engineer up by pulling on his good arm he almost lost his hat again, but caught it just in time.
"Thanks pardner. Boy, ain't that a nice sight?"
"What's goin' on here, Engineer? Why's this so different?" Sniper asked. By now it was too tight for the three of them to hang there comfortably, and they had to pay attention not to fall down.
"Well, guess what's they call ' brier savannah', not very common on our continent. Seems likely the climate got messed up too much, and this is the bridge 'tween the snow and the regular desert. Already dry 'n unfriendly, hot durin' the day, but not that dry. Gonna bet there are even rain periods."
"'Of course ya know that stuff." Sniper laughed. "What are ya, a certified weatherfrog?"
Engineer laughed as well, shifting his shoulder to a more comfortable position.
"Don't get cocky, Lanky. Just joined a few lectures on meteorology at university a while ago."
"Man, ya sure were bored, weren't ya?"
"Somethin' like that. Let's get down again, that Soldier's pullin' ma leg, and ya know he is NOT the jokin' type."
Pyro and Sniper chuckled and jumped down, as soon as they were back on their feet they helped Engineer down as well.
"Welcome back, monkey boys." Soldier growled, glaring at them. "Hope you had fun."
"'y, 'anks, 'oldier." Pyro answered, very politely. "'t 'as 'ery 'elaxin', 'ou 'ould 'y 't 'oo." The others grinned, the short man seemed to be in a good mood. They couldn't say that about Soldier, though. His narrowed eyes shot angry glares at both, Engineer and Pyro, but let the matter be for now.
"Fine. The exit is done, everyone is ready. How about you, boys? Let's get things started. You have 15 Minutes to get your weapons, stock up with ammunition and return right here. After that, we take our positions and heat things up a bit."
The men darted away, 15 minutes more than enough, as they had spent the last weeks, even months with maintaining their weapons, keeping them in order, clean and working. Oh yes, they were ready to get things going. Time to fight again, finally.
Sniper rummaged through his stuff, pocketing his shades and putting on his gloves. He was counting the bullets for his rifle when a rough push made him turn around. In front of him stood the Medic, arms crossed and with a serious, angry expression on his face.
"Eh, mate, what's it now I've done? Dun't remember harassin' ya recently." The stare caused a nervous feeling. He wasn't in the mood to argue now, even not with the German. The last two days had been boring, and it bothered him he hadn't been of any use lately. True, fortunately he had decided to follow Medic after a while on the day their enemy had struck for the first time, and he probably had prevented worse things to happen to him. But still, his skills hadn't been involved. Not then, not the last weeks. He grew restless and was eager to start.
"Here, have zhat." Without a further word Medic threw something at Sniper, who caught the little object with ease.
The Australian looked at the little bottle.
"Poison?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Don't be silly, Dummkopf. Zhis could be dangerous, running on zhe roof of zhe train. Zhis medicine is somezhing I've been vorking on for a vhile. It is not tested. Do only take zhat vhen zhings go really vrong, alles klar?" the German explained grimly.
"Ya know, ya are creepy, in a good way. Thank ya." Thoughtfully, he stared at the vial in his hand. The liquid looked strange, clear, yet he couldn't see through it. The light broke in an odd way he couldn't really figure out.
"So when things are getting' hot, I just gulp that down, right?"
"Nein." His mouth twitched a bit, like he tried to hide a smile, when Medic handed him a small box. Sniper opened the lid and flinched. "Ugh. No oral medicine, yeah? A shot. Uh, thank ya anyway, I guess..."
"Don't tell me you are afraid of needles?" the Medic mocked him. "You vant it? If not, give it back, and I test it on someone else."
"No no, it's fine, it's fine." The Australian stored both, box and bottle, away in the inner pocket of his vest. "So... you didn't give this to everyone?"
"No, as I said, I had no time to test it. Zhere could be side effects, so don't use it lightly."
"Your way of revenge?"
"Maybe. And maybe I have a bad feeling about your mission, alzhough I do not know vhy. Be careful. Ve cannot afford to risk any men, so stop zhat retarded grinning, vill you?" the German added, annoyed .
"Of course." Not even trying to grin less retarded, Sniper finished his preparations.
The scheme was ready to be carried out. And the men were ready to do so.
x x x x x x
Sniper nodded in Pyro's direction, who, standing at the door, gave him a sign. Everything was alright, time to go. The Australian climbed on the chair again, pulling himself through the hole, lying flat on the roof, his rifle close to his body. He bent down the opening and helped Spy up. The train wasn't traveling all too fast now, even a bit slower than before, but still the speed was high enough to be dangerous if they didn't pay attention. For a moment or two they sat on the roof, shielding their eyes from the wind, and got used to the movement before they dared to stand up.
"Be careful, Monsieur Sniper, zis is hazardous. One wrong step could be ze last..." Spy shouted against the noise of the wind and the train, ducking behind the Australian's back.
"Don't worry, Spook. This is just getting started." Step by step they advanced forward, against the pressure of the wind. He sounded confident, obviously, he enjoyed the situation immensely.
The night was still clear, with its dark-blue sky and the bright moon. It was cold, but far from the cold they had to fight in Dustbowl. The air reminded him of a chilly spring night like he experienced them when he traveled Europe, it even smelled a bit like rain, although he couldn't see any clouds. He was humming to himself when they crossed the gap between the first and the second compartment, feeling oddly relaxed.
According to the plan they had discussed, Spy and him would have to proceed to the end of third compartment, and try to get an overview of the whole train, of how many wagons it actually consisted of. The peek through the opening only a little while before had not revealed much, only that their "room" wasn't actually the end, it was connected to a smaller, strangely shaped wagon that was attached directly to theirs. Probably a water tank, which explained how the bathroom was provided with fresh water. From what Sniper could see so far the train had at least six or seven wagons, tank included, but he wasn't sure he could already spot the head. He had pulled Spy over the space between one and two, as he numbered the compartments in his head. Jumping was risky, the force of the wind made it hard to calculate the distance and necessary power for the leap, so they more or less half climbed, half jumped. Besides, the landing might catch the wrong men's attention. For now, it was better to stay unnoticed as long as possible. The mayhem would start soon enough.
A good time to enjoy the scenery, Sniper thought. A nice adventure, out in the open, was right up to his alley. As long as he wouldn't freeze to death. Everything was so peaceful, and exciting. His hand moved over the pocket where he hid the strange liquid Medic gave him. He was curious what this stuff was about, but for now he couldn't imagine he would need it at all.
"Sniper! Be careful! Watch ze feet!" But the warning was too late.
He couldn't figure what made him stumble, once he lost his footing everything happened fast. Spy was beside him, trying to hold him, but didn't succeed, Sniper saw the ground coming closer. Just before the train's wall diverged from him completely he could grab on an overhanging edge with one hand, his other still clung to his rifle.
"Mon dieu! Sniper!" Spy rushed to the ledge, reaching out for him. "Let ze gun go!"
"No!" the Australian shouted, not really realizing what had happened yet. "Spy! Take my hand! Pull me up!" A second later long, thin fingers clasped around his wrist, pulling, but too weakly. At this rate, he would fall. He looked down. Fortunately they weren't traveling at full speed, he would probably survive the fall. But he was not ready to give up yet.
Sniper held his breath and let go of the edge, clutching to the gloved hand that was holding him.
"Pull... me... up... you... can..." he hissed through his clenched teeth.
"Sniper! You are... heavy... Cannot... hold..." he heard the French struggling.
"Fuck..." It gave him a painful sting right into his heart when he finally decided to forsake his rifle. With his now free hand he tried to find a hold at the wall, pulling himself up.
"Non non non! Zis does not work! Sniper! SNIPER!" Spy cried when he watched the Sniper falling.
"Mon dieu! I WILL CALL HELP! WAIT ZERE!" he shouted. Then he looked at his bare hand. "Merde! Zis was one of my favorite gloves..."
He turned around, hurrying back as fast as he could.
x x x x x
"Ouch. Bloody fuckin' hell..." His head felt dizzy. The hard ground hurt his back, but he finally sat up, staring after the train. The moving train. The train that became smaller by the second.
"FUCK!" With a quick movement he was back on his feet and started to run, but soon stumbled again. "Ouch..." His right foot hurt. Hectically he felt for his ankle. Not broken, but hurt like hell, probably sprained.
"Okay, mate, think." he scolded himself, glancing around. "The situation is not as bad as it looks, ain't it?" As far as he could judge he wasn't injured, only his ankle and some bruises that wouldn't start to hurt before tomorrow. He clenched his fists and relaxed them again. Good, moved without any problems at all. How much time had passed between the release of his gun and his fall? Not much, he was sure about that and started backtracking the rails. It took him less than five minutes to find his beloved rifle, but the delight faded away as soon as he checked the weapon. The sight was broken, the long barrel slightly awry. Useless. But he brought it along anyway.
Hurriedly he jogged along the tracks, following the train that was already out of sight.
"Fuck... so much about adventure and excitement." he grumbled, hoping his team mates would be more successful. And soon. The sooner, the better, he doubted he would catch up with them if they didn't stop that damn train. At least the moon shone brightly, spending enough light to illuminate the wasteland. He could see well even without zoom or nightscope.
Suddenly, only a few inches beside him, a bullet hit the ground.
xxxxx to be continued xxxxx
Another weekend over, another chapter.
Not much to say about this one, though. It's not too special, not naughty, but I hope you like it anyway :)
Had no idea how to name this chapter, I was listening to "be prepared"/Lion King, so... (well, I actually prefer Scar's German voice .com/watch?v=EC9Pkz9dPMU That doesn't happen very often, usually I'm for the orginal when it comes to movies and such, but Thomas Fritsch has such a great voice, he also spoke Diego... wait? What has this to do with anything?)
I'll be away in a few hours and probably not be online before Tuesday (but I hope for the best.).
And here they are - the translations:
Pyro:
'ut 'o 'e 'way! - out of the way
"'ome up! 'urry! 'ou 'ave t' 'ee 'at!" - come up! Hurry! You have to see that!
"'y, 'anks, 'oldier." Pyro answered, very politely. "'t 'as 'ery 'elaxin', 'ou 'ould 'y 't 'oo." - Why, thanks, Soldier. It was very relaxing, you should try it, too.
Medic:
Ich frage mich = I wonder... (actually, "I ask myself..." but it means "I wonder...")
Spy:
Qu'est-ce que vous trouvez – What did you find?