She said as she gave a tire one final kick. Spencer nodded his approval at her remark and climbed in. He checked everything thoroughly; location and general functioning of controls, exit points, storage...anything that might be useful. All of these details were committed to memory immediately. In any situation, he'd be able to react without the weight of ignorance bogging him down. He sat in the seat farthest to the back, unslinging his shotgun as he sat down. Carefully and expertly, he broke it down, checked each component, and reassembled it, ensuring the magazine was full. He replaced the shotgun and withdrew his katana. Here, there was nothing to check; nothing to break down. A simple thing; and yet so elegant and so deadly. The hilt was wrapped in black. The blade was steel, diamond-edged, and razor sharp. Near the hilt were three Japanese characters that embodied everything he was; everything he aspired to: [FONT="]武士道 "The Way of the Warrior..." [/FONT]
"Oh, you're in for loads of fun." Omar smiled. "Hah, nothing more fun than certain death at the hands of sadomasochist cannibals..." He leaned back, letting the exhaustion wash over him. He wasn't used to getting up this early. Or moving around much. "So... what did you do to end up here, eh? And more specifically, how'd you end up stuffed in this freezing coffin instead of warming your cute little ass out front in the Mammoth?"
I pat Alec on the shoulder and motion him to head to the front of the truck. I check most the wheels and make sure they are what I asked for when they wanted me on this voyage. I pull open the back of the trailer and head through it to check all the materials and feel out the balance of the truck even though I know damn well that it will be my instinct behind the wheel that will save me and my team. I bang on the walls of the trailer and they seemed to be armored on the inside too. This is for real, we are going to change the face of the planet or die trying. I pulled out the gun near the entrance of the trailer and it was just as a I hoped. This thing was like a battle ship ready for war and that is what we are basically gonna do. I set everything back to the way it was and did a second check up around the truck. I headed towards the driver side and took a deep breathe. I opened the door to see someone was already up and about ready to get this start. "Well howdy do there, Hawke right," I asked with a big smile as I jumped into the truck. I pulled my Jackhammer from my back and set it in a holster built into the truck. Glad they knew I was packin' some mean heat. I pulled to round cylinders from inside my jacket and set them under my chair. I pat my right calf to make sure my back up was there and then pat my left calf to make sure my backup's muscle is there. I pull out all the radio signals that I had written on a sheet of paper and taped it the bottom of the radio and programmed all the channels I need for the convoy in order from closest truck to me to farthest vehicle away. I sat for a second and closed my eyes.
"Thanks, man. Yeah, yeah you know i wouldn't touch her, she's not my type anyways... too smart." Chris looked over at Gabriel Hawke inspecting his Desert Eagle. "Maybe we should go introduce ourselves to the Commanding Officer, see if he can get us something other than these friggin' crossbows we brought. If we're facing Drekk and Reavers, I'll settle for nothing less than semi-automatic rifle, or at the very least a cyanide pill. "
"Yeah, see that right there is what gives me a bad feeling. We come into a war situation with crossbows and I got this nail gun. A fu**in nail gun? Against the aliens that wiped out half of mankind? And then, if THAT'S not bad enough, Reavers and other humans are still out there that AREN'T friendly. Anyway, you're right about that bitch being too smart. She gets on my last nerve, that's why I'm not that upset about being here right now."
Chris watched as Gabriel finished inspecting his weapon and reholstered it, he couldn't stop staring at his stony features, and quick deliberate movements. He was wondering just how many people Gabriel had killed when he noticed that he was staring back. Chris immediately looked away while simultaneously losing his nerve. Killers made him nervous, he was glad he didn't have to ride with one of the ghosts. "Ahh. Maybe we'll talk to him tomorrow. Let's load up eh? We'll probably be rolling out soon." he said as he shook hands with Artie. Chris trudged through the snow to his transport vehicle and loaded his pack behind his seat before breaking out a couple peices of jerked chicken. He wished his driver would show up so they could get this thing over with already...
A strong gush of wind rocked the truck rattling the windows and attracting hawke’s attention. He’d holstered his Desert Eagle and opened the door again. Jumping down his feet crunched through the snow and sank down a little. He looked up and watched as white clouds began to cover the grey sky with a tint of red which was the sign iof heavy snow fall due. “A Storms coming” he said allowed. Behind him a few other soldiers and crew were beginning to load up the last of the water supplies on the trailer of the lead truck. He noted David checking the mammoth over and turned to Chris again. The man had been starring at him. Hawke new it was out of fear. But Roughnecks were uncanny for fixing things and these two had been recommended. Hawke waved to Lucy the beautiful woman who ran the café for the convoy’s and compound crew. She was a damned fine woman an English girl who’d fallen for an Orlock named Varl. And her Stew was legendary. It could warm the cockles of any frost bitten victim. Hawke smiled at that thought. She stood by the café’s large window watching them. Hawke took out another of his fat cigars and sniffed it. The aroma was a relaxation in itself. Taking his golden zippo he but the end off and lit the other end. inhaling he finally blew out smoke. That felt damned good. “C’mon load ‘em up a storms coming we need to be out before it refreezes these engines.” He called out loud enough for the whole team to hear. Hawke turned back to the trucks open door and caught a glimpse of General Clarkson watching from the briefing hanger.
. Up above the grey sky fills up with white clouds turning a shade of red. Then in the distance thunder crackles for a few minutes. .
"So... what did you do to end up here, eh? And more specifically, how'd you end up stuffed in this freezing coffin instead of warming your cute little ass out front in the Mammoth?" She appreciated his assumption that her ass was small and cute. Bundled up as they were it was impossible to tell. "It'll get better in here," she grinned, "not much, I'll grant you, but warmer. Pack a whole team in here and you almost don't need the heating. As for why I'm here, I asked to come." She wondered where the heck the rest of the team was. Were they finishing a leisurely bowl of stew or maybe enjoying a lengthy chat? Didn't they see the threatening storm clouds? Red tinge was a bad sign. Mika checked her timepiece. This mission had to get on the move. She returned her attention to the Doc. "The Drekk have taken too much from this planet already," Mika said firmly, "and I am no stranger to the Outside. I have no children, parents, or husband to worry over me and I have experience in using similar equipment to the communications tech that we have with us as well as with navigation and finding water." She waved a vague hand to indicate the communications equipment. She and Boris had to use simpler but similar equipment on their water excursions. The Doc really didn't look happy to be here. "So how did you end up here?" Mika asked him.
Spencer slid back the armor plate that served as a window. Red-tinted clouds loomed about the horizon and were moving closer. A storm brewing. Good. It'd give them a bit of cover from prying eyes. Though, on the other hand, it would also mean they'd have to keep vigilant. That is, if they decided to get underway before the storm hit. Spencer sheathed the katana and leaned back in his seat. The cold was bitter, but Spencer had seen much worse. One of his acutest memories was when he was trained to 'embrace the cold': a survival and conditioning test. It was a trek between two installations around the base of Everest; during one of the worst storms the area had ever seen. Only half of the dozen who set out returned. It was the price the Ghosts paid to get only the best. Spencer waited in the far back seat of the vehicle for the rest of his crew.
Gaston made his way to the front of the truck, stopping to observe the color of the sky and the crackle of thunder in the distance. He had shed his nervousness on his way out here. He wasn't scared by what he would be facing. Fearing the enemy was the surest way to die on the battlefield. Reaver, Drekk, Blood, or anyone else, they all were the same through his scope. He hopped into the truck, nodded at the Captain, and took a seat behind him. While he waited for the convoy to move, he took out his white and gray wraps and began to camouflage his rifle.
Sadie glanced overhead as the low growl of thunder sounded in the distance. The sky was a deep grey, white clouds tinged red. The corner of Sadie’s mouth twitched up in a grin; what perfect pathetic fallacy. She hoped no one in her team was stupid enough to believe in omens, or they might be feeling a little uneasy right about now. Not that Sadie would really care if they did. She wasn’t exactly the most empathetic of people. As she reached her team’s vehicle, a small truck with a trailer, she saw two of her teammates were already sat waiting in the back seats. Bundled up as they were in thick, fleecy parkas and gold-tinted sunglasses as Sadie was, all she could make out of one was a mop of white-blonde hair and a strong chin, and of the other a balding head and the dark skin of an Iranian. That left one member of the team unaccounted for. “Hey,” Sadie greeted the two as she approached the truck. She threw her large, bulky pack into the back, then swung herself into the front seat. Twisting round, she nodded at her teammates. “Sorry I’m late.”
"Glad you're here," said Mika dryly, "maybe we could get this thing warmed up? I doubt our driver would mind much."
I finished preparations inside the truck then crackled my knuckles. I grabbed the radio and switched on the all channels switch. "This is your Captain speaking. Today's weathering is deahtly cold with a high chance of a freezing storm. So if all team could man there vehicles so we can get with the damn thing," I said as if I was talkin' to a commercial flight.
Captain Hawke gave David a stern glare then closed his passengers door while still inhaling and exhaling his Cigar smoke through the cockpit. "We need to head off before the engines start to freeze up from idle stationary." Hawke said while smoke blew out from his nostrils. Hawke then nodded back to the Ghost Gaston who'd opened the side door and climbered up and sat in the rear seat. Hawke looked up at the clouds catching a glimpse of Red as he noticed Gaston wrapping his Rifle in grey and white wraps. The red tint to those greying white clouds ment a storm was coming and the chances were they were heading into it. Head on at that.
I looked over at Hawke as he gave me a look that said let's go. I nodded and grabbed the radio. "This is your Captain again. If all team could please get to their vehicles could get to the vehicles as I am to ROLL OUT,"I said laughing as put away the radio. I checked the truck and my team was here. A skilled Ghost, a veteran Englishmen, and a Roughneck; all my necessities for survival out here in this damned place. I started the engine and revved it a bit. I checked the driver mirror to make sure everyone was ready to go.
In response Sadie leant over and half turned the key in the ignition, turning the truck’s engine on but not actually starting it up. She fiddled with the temperature dials, hoping nothing was frozen up after being idle. Her breath misted before her in a cloud of ice crystals, but, leaning down next to the vents, she thought she caught a breath of warm air. “That should do it,” she said, leaning back in her seat. “So. You have names?” Blunt, maybe. But Sadie wasn’t one for small talk. Then the radio crackled. “This is your Captain again. If all team could please get to their vehicles could get to the vehicles as I am to ROLL OUT.” The vehicle at the front of the line started up its engine, revving loudly. Sadie rolled her eyes, then clambered over into the driver’s seat. She twisted the key fully til the engine started. Glancing round briefly, she couldn’t see anyone heading towards the truck. She sighed, and looked at her teammates in the rearview mirror. “Either of you know who we’re missing? I don’t particularly want to leave someone behind already.”
Hawke noted David’s smile and felt a sudden warmth brace the cockpit as the engine revved up to life a slight vibration shook them from the sudden start of motors. Again he blew smoke from his nostrils tapping ash into the ash tray from his half smoked fat cigar. From within his coat he took out a picture of a women and a young girl and placed it on the dash board in front of him using some sticky tape. The photograph was old and frayed at the edges. Hawke sat back resting his head on the tall seat letting the warmth brace his body in a welcomed feeling.
I looked over at Hawke as he taped a picture of a women and a young girl onto my dashboard. I looked over and chuckled a bit then said,"Excuse me sir, you know you need permission before sticking things on my dashboard or anywhere in my domain." I laughed and patted him on the shoulder hoping he knew it was just a joke. "I kid, so who are they don't tell me I am gonna have to drive safely so you can get back to them in one piece," I joked some more as a waited for the other truckers to signal the ready to go.
"I kid, so who are they don't tell me I am gonna have to drive safely so you can get back to them in one piece," David said as the truck moved slightly from the vibrating of the engine. Hawke blew smoke out again. “Drive as dangerously as you like. I plan on Joining them soon enough.” Hawke took another intake of smoke and looked at his picture. “They’re long gone.” He said with a sadness to his tone.
Helena watched Spencer inspect his shotgun. It was nicer than hers, but then, hopefully she wouldn't need hers. Her job was to drive. "I like your gun," She said to Spenser. "You know your way around it like I know my way around a truck, we'll get on fine. I'm Helena."
My smile faded away slightly and I said to Hawke," I am sorry sir I didn't mean to joke like that if I had known." I pat him on the shoulder and smile again,"but you won't be joining them on my watch," I tell him and give him a reassuring wink. I grab the radio again,"Ok this is your Captain again if all ORLOCKS COULD GET A MOVE ON PLEASE. THANK YOU. I am ready to kick Drekk ass and take down anyone who wants to stand in my way," I yelled into the radio getting a little irritated.
Gaston looked at the photo from the back. Old and frayed, showing that he hadn't had a chance to get a new one, and Gaston had a good guess why. “They’re long gone.” the Captain said, almost if on cue. Gaston just continued to quietly wrap his rifle, and then began to clean the lense. "When it's your time to go, it's your time to go, no need to rush it," he said finally. "Unfortunately, it looks as if it'll be none of our times to go if the people behind us don't get their arses in gear."
Spencer looked up at the woman who was to be the driver for this portion of the expedition. "A pleasure." Spencer said. His tone and face neutral. "You know your business. I look forward to working with you." He paused for a moment, taking another glance out the window. "I'm Spencer."
Gaston had just about had it. Reputation be damned, they had a mission to accomplish. Outside of convening in the same area, which at this point seemed like a miracle, things were going as inefficiently as possible. Turning off the safety to his rifle, Gaston hopped out of the truck, climbed up to the mounted gun and looked around at the remaining team members outside their trucks. "'EY!" He yelled. "Quit lollygagging and get your arses in the bloody trucks! The Drekk ain't gonna take care of themselves." Gaston brough the rifle to his eye, took aim at an Arabian clad mostly in black, and fired a shot right next to his foot. "If you think that's a miss, you're sorely mistaken," he continued. "Now get in the trucks before I start picking off the dead weight." Gaston watched as people glared at him, but made their way to their respective vehicles. He hopped off the truck and back inside. "Sorry 'bout that sir," he said to the Captain. "We Ghosts ain't much for waiting though."
