Operation Cambyses (Excalibur Squadron IC)

[Calizorinstan]

Pat then said "What in here has killed all the Germans and the Itals? It must be very highly dangerous, so we should be on our guard." He pointed his BAR into the darkness of the airship and looked at the Captain. "Should we go in? Anybody got a torch?"

[French Indochine]

Birch twiddled with his shaking fingers as he scanned the desert ravine. For several minutes or so, the entire task force had been hung on edge by the strange silence of the Italian unit that had been apparently send to deal with them. However by now, the canyon below was now slowly being filled by the advancing figures of his troops along with that of Page's as they silently made their way down the sandy slopes. When the RAF personnel first came to with their initiative and made their down first, he figured the only logical thing to do would be to send in the LRDG's part in the mission after them. The situation was well just as much as it was not, in fact, so much that the Major was having difficulty deciding whether which was actually what.

"Birch to Keatings. Stay where you are. I want those scouting parties to keep it up, regardless of the calm. Wakeman's people will follow in with Page's - hopefully they can make it fast.", mumbled the Major inadvertently to himself as he spoke into the radio. It had been one of already countless transmissions, and his ear was beginning to feel numb from it. First Platoon's scouts had given the all clear, but Birch was unassured that the Italians would simply vanish into thin air like something out of a ghost story. He turned his attention back to peering at the ground with his binoculars.

“Wakeman here, the Captain’s moving in his people into the zep.”, suddenly crackled the radio. Birch quickly responded, “I’m giving him the leverage now, send a section or two in with him – have everyone else keep watch on the outside.” Slanting away the phone for a second, he mumbled to himself, “Let’s get this over with.” Wakeman quickly replied, and after a few fast reminders and other specific orders, Birch changed the frequency. His attention was devoted to Keatings and his platoon however.

“Keatings here, there’s absolutely nothing – tire tracks here and there but the Ities are nowhere! The boys in the scouting parties are getting restless sir, and I request permission to pull them back.” For a second, Birch puckered his lips in surprise, noticing the impatient strain in the leftenant’s voice. “Permission denied, leftenant! Something’s not right about this! Cycle around your men with different parties each time; I want absolute confirmation that there isn’t an ambush in planning.” A brief and hard “Yes sir.” came from Keatings, and the radio hung back into its stone state. Birch took the moment to peer through his binoculars again, but an interesting sight beheld him: he wondered what was going on as he witnessed two of the RAF personnel dash from their opening of a silent Italian lorry towards the black stomach of the crashed, ruined zeppelin. He yanked the phone from its receiver again, knobbing the frequency to the channel assigned to Corporal Sanders, the LRDG soldier now closest to the RAF squadron.

---

While Page and his squadron descended down into the bowels of the wreckage, Sanders and his section stood behind. The corporal was busily examining the aged antiques that lay strewn all over what had been the gondola’s “floor” when the message came in. What money I could make if I auctioned all of this.

Just as one of the RAF men rushed to busily pass a rather panicked report to his superior, Sanders and Pedeen darted in through an auxiliary path. The corporal fixed his eyes upon that of Page’s as he spoke, “My men and the Major just radioed me in – the Ities are all dead, like something out of a horror picture! Them scouts of ours say nothing’s on the horizon."

The corporal became silent as several of the RAF personnel exchanged cold talks of how it all could've happened. Waiting for them to finish, Sanders raised a hand, "Perhaps they were all electrocuted - certainly sounds like it - like they were 'living one minute and died the next' as one of you chaps said."

[The Tiger Kingdom]

"They're stone dead skipper." Charlie answered. "Every last one o' 'em, still sitting pretty in 'em trucks o' theirs."

"Didn't see no sign o' a struggle and from me old man's war stories it doesn't look like it were gas either, hell it does look like they were alive one minute and dead the next. So wotever the hell it were, it were pretty damn bloody quick!"

Page reeled as he processed this new piece of information.
"Jesus. What the hell could've done such a thing?"
He thought for a moment more.

"At least we don't have to worry about them sneaking up on us anymore, but...that's just bizarre. Electrocution is possible...but you'd think it might've diffused over a distance, done some damage to the equipment itself, which I take it hasn't. It must have something to do with that cargo we're supposed to destroy. All the more a reminder to do the job and get the hell out of here as quickly as possible, I suppose. You two joined us at a good time, at least - we're about to crack this door open and get to it."

At this, the Captain gave the hatch wheel a huge, full-bodied attempt at a turn. It didn't budge. Grimacing, he tried again, and it began to give a little, the mechanism grinding over the grains of sand caught in it. Finally, after a solid minute of pushing, the wheel moved to the open position. Page readied his torch and pistol.
"Now get ready. I have no idea what's behind here, so be on guard for anything."

Breathless with anticipation, he pushed the hatch in, his eyes primed for anything. The hatch creaked and swung inwards, revealing the cavernous inner chamber...

Nothing.

Empty.

Totally empty.

The vast cargo chamber had been utterly cleaned out. There were clearly visible marks on the floor where something, most likely pallets full of gold, had been left at some point in the last 23 years, but they were long gone now. As the squadron filed into the chamber, many craning their necks to catch a glimpse of something, anything, Page's face was hot with anger and disappointment.

"How the hell is this possible...?" he muttered to himself. Had someone plundered the place before they'd gotten there? Had this whole damned expedition been a waste?

All he could hear was the footfalls of the squadron, and the wind...

Then, he realized something. Wait. We're in the bowels of this thing. How am I hearing the wind?

Following the wall, Page went to the far side, and realized what was going on. What he couldn't see from the entrance was that the cargo bay was actually on the opposite side of the zeppelin from where they had went in, not the exact center like he had thought - and that this was the side that had scraped up against the rock wall at the edge of the valley. The metal on that side had actually been ripped away in the crash, and part of the cargo bay was actually walled in by that same rock wall.

And the rock wall had a tunnel carved out of it that looked decidedly manmade.
"Everyone, over here. This looks promising..."

[Altito Asmoro]

"Hmm, looks mysterious."

Edward aiming his rifle in front of him. He know exactly the consequences of doing this, and maybe lead to death. However, a soldier must ready for anything. Even Death.

"Captain, if accepted, may I lead the front? I haven't done anything useful until now. So, May I?"

[The balkens]

"No."
Michael said.
"captain, I volunteer myself to go in first. If we encounter something-"
He paused to pull back the bolt on his Bren.
"- this will discourage em."

[Altito Asmoro]

"No."
Michael said.
"captain, I volunteer myself to go in first. If we encounter something-"
He paused to pull back the bolt on his Bren.
"- this will discourage em."

"What? No! This is my responsibility too, Michael. Unfortunately, you still in a discharged status on my eyes. So back off, and let us handle this," said Edward as he pointed himself and Pat.

"Right Pat?"

[Neu Engollon]

Nils De Broen kept quiet and just tried to not show frustration at some of the quibling of his fellow Excalibur comrades. There were times where he went on a bit, and times where he felt that the moment necessitated quiet. At this moment, with countless numbers of the enemy mysteriously dead for no known reason except maybe the possibility of some quick acting gas, biological, viral or who knows what supernatural killer, he didn't really have any worthwhile words to add to the discussion that hadn't been said already.
He was still on guard and ready for anything, despite the LRDG men taking over the rear guard from him without even acknowledging his presence. They were a dodgy, weird lot, but they'd come through during the small battle back in the Arab village, so he was inclined to have to rely on them somewhat.

[Morrdh]

"Oh sod this!" Grumbled Charlie. "If these two want to argue like a pair of schoolboys then they're more than welcomed to in me book."

"Dunno 'bouts the rest o' ye, but I want to get this ruddy mission done and dust so we can get the heck out o' here." Charlie continued as he cautiously approached the tunnel. "So lets get a bloody move on shall we?"

[Altito Asmoro]

"Oh sod this!" Grumbled Charlie. "If these two want to argue like a pair of schoolboys then they're more than welcomed to in me book."

"Dunno 'bouts the rest o' ye, but I want to get this ruddy mission done and dust so we can get the heck out o' here." Charlie continued as he cautiously approached the tunnel. "So lets get a bloody move on shall we?"

"Hey! We're not in argument!"

"Okay, Michael. Come with us." Said Edward as he follows Charlie.

[The balkens]

"fine by me. "schoolboy"
Michael said sarcastically.
He then turned towards noble and bowed his head.
"LT noble, would you accompany us? Could always use a good shot."
Michael glared at edward. If he wasn't annoyed by him then, he was now.

[The Tiger Kingdom]

"fine by me. "schoolboy"
Michael said sarcastically.
He then turned towards noble and bowed his head.
"LT noble, would you accompany us? Could always use a good shot."
Michael glared at edward. If he wasn't annoyed by him then, he was now.

Noble nodded. "I'm going in, of course, if that's what you're asking. I've come all this way, gotta see it through to the end now."

"Oh sod this!" Grumbled Charlie. "If these two want to argue like a pair of schoolboys then they're more than welcomed to in me book."

"Dunno 'bouts the rest o' ye, but I want to get this ruddy mission done and dust so we can get the heck out o' here." Charlie continued as he cautiously approached the tunnel. "So lets get a bloody move on shall we?"

Page sighed in exasperation. You'd think those two had no discipline whatsoever. And I doubt I'd make a resigned officer point man under any foreseeable circumstance.
"Spoken like a truly sensible man. Fodder, you're taking point. I'll be right behind you. The rest of you - follow us in at six-foot intervals. I do not want us getting bunched up in there. If you see anything suspicious, call it out immediately. Under no circumstances are we getting separated in there, especially if there are side tunnels or branching passages."

Page took a deep breath, readied the torch once again, and steeled himself. "All right. Lead the way, Charlie."

Slowly, the squadron proceeded into the cramped tunnel, only a few feet wide. It was utterly pitch-black inside, with very little visibility beyond the flickering beam of the flashlight. As Page cast his gaze about the black, musty, claustrophobic grimness of the passage, it was clear there was no way that the cave could be natural. He mumbled to himself offhandedly.
"The walls are too smooth, the path is too straight. This is...bizarre. Someone cut this into the rock. But how'd they do it? And why?"

Noble's voice came from behind.
"Maybe the Bedouins built this a while ago as a shelter of some kind? And the zeppelin...just happened to crash near it?"
Page grinned to himself. "How likely does that sound to you?"
Her voice became a bit sheepish. "Not very much at all, really."
"Same here."
"You notice we're going down, now?"

Page looked at the ground beneath him. It was indeed on a downwards incline. "Yeah. Hopefully, we're heading somewhere and not just to some dead end a mile or so ahead."

After another five or so minutes of tense walking later, the downward passage ended in a massive underground chamber, easily the size of a football pitch. This was decidedly natural - stalactites and stalagmites were visible on the ceiling and on the ground itself, and the chamber walls were strange in the torchlight - they seemed to be perforated with holes and scars, that through which, more open space could be seen, showing that perhaps the chamber they were in was just a small section of a vast underground area, walled off by porous rock.

He could hear Noble, close by, even though it was now so dark he could barely see her outline. "Under normal circumstances, I'd be amazed. I've never seen anything like this. But where's the damned cargo?"

Page's frustration, bottled up for the last few days at the length and exertion of the expedition, was finally beginning to bubble over. "I'm actually tempted to think Cutler bunged us over with the intel - how do we know there was ever anything on this damned zeppelin? And if it was so secret-"

A voice rang out, echoing through the chamber.
"Britishers."

Page dropped his torch and nearly dropped his Webley out of shock. It rolled away, and Page had to run after it, tripping and landing painfully on his side as he reclaimed it. He flashed it desperately into the blackness. He didn't see anything.
"Who's there?"

A second passed. 5 seconds. 10 seconds. Finally, the response came out from the black gloom, in a faint German accent:
"Britishers. Drop your weapons now. You are surrounded and outnumbered. If you do not come peacefully, you will be hunted down and destroyed, one by one. Some of you have already seen the consequences of resistance - swift and honorless annihilation. Do not make their mistake."

Page broke out in a cold sweat. He still couldn't see anything that looked like a hostile in the dark, still lying on his side. And then, he could hear the sound of weapons being cocked - small numbers at first, but soon, he could hear dozens of them. Was that a pair of eyes in the dark? Rifle barrels sticking out of the holes in the wall? Was it all his eyes playing tricks...panic setting in...?

Nearby, Lieutenant Noble was just as scared. Desperately scanning around her for targets, her Colt drawn, she yelled out in reply. "Who the hell are you?"

There was no response...

[Calizorinstan]

Pat felt really spooked and he raised his BAR searching the room. Where there Germans still alive from the original Zeppelin? The thought was spooky to Pat. He lowered the weapon and strained to look around in the dark.

[The balkens]

Michael crouched and kept his Bren at the ready, his fear of tight, dark spaces was certainly holding him back. But then he thought:
why the hell am I so afraid of the dark? it is a Childs fear. I'm no child.
Michael began to laugh quietly at first, it sounded maniacal.
He walked up to noble.
"ma'am. I'd advise to stay behind me. Captain page? Orders!"

[Neu Engollon]

"Britishers"

Nils, flinched and almost fired in the direction of the voice, before holding himself in check. He had a hair trigger on the Winchester, raised up and ready to fire, but he didn't really have a clear target, but for the glimpses of shadows through the big pocks and pores in the cave rock. Were he to fire now, he would more likely shower himself and nearby Excalibur squad mates in ricocheting buckshot. The Jerrys really had them over a barrel now.
"Kak!" He said softly.

He waited to see what the Captain's next action would be, ready to dive into battle with him.

[Altito Asmoro]

Edward slowly pulled his Lee-Enfield rifle, before aiming it into the darkness down there. Seemed like either the enemy has a way to make more troops or they are a real human troops. Either way, it must be strong.

Edward now waiting for the orders from Captain Page.

[The Tiger Kingdom]

Michael crouched and kept his Bren at the ready, his fear of tight, dark spaces was certainly holding him back. But then he thought:
why the hell am I so afraid of the dark? it is a Childs fear. I'm no child.
Michael began to laugh quietly at first, it sounded maniacal.
He walked up to noble.
"ma'am. I'd advise to stay behind me."

Noble nearly laughed to herself. "Zilorski, I appreciate the gesture, but we don't even know where these people are in relation to us. For all we know, they're behind us. If anything, I'd advise getting down."

Captain page? Orders!"

Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic.
Page whipped the torch around the chamber, desperately trying to pick out anything that looked remotely hostile. Still nothing, even though his eyes had long since acclimatized to the dark as well as they were going to. His leg was killing him as well - had he sprained it in the fall?

He stood up, painfully, and attempted to sound as confident and macho as he could. "I'm the Captain of these soldiers. Whoever the hell you are, you sure talk tough, but you're apparently too scared to show yourselves. If you mean to get us scared enough to surrender, I'm going to have to see something beyond shadows in the dark. Think you're brave enough?"

Another few seconds awaiting a reply. It was odd, but Page felt like he could hear whispers reverberating around the room.
"Very well, Herr Captain. Shine your light about 10 feet to the left of where it is now."

Page followed the instructions. What the light revealed made his panic-induced fear all the more solid and real. The light played shakingly over the face of a haggard-looking German officer, bruised and with a bad cut directly below his eye. Directly behind him were no less than five men, their faces covered by kheffiyehs. Four of them were pointing their guns at the source of the light - right at Page. The other seemed to have his rifle planted in the German's back. Page raised an eyebrow at that almost unconsciously.

"You don't look in too good shape, Herr Kraut. I take it these aren't your boys."

The German's face didn't change perceptibly at all. "My company was...neutralized...some hours ago. I am their captive, and as I speak English, they decided to use me to demand your surrender. They are telling me what to say."

His voice cracked slightly.

"Britisher, I don't know you, and I don't know your men, All I can say is that if you fight back here, you will all die. I've seen it happen already, once. It's...horrible. You are outnumbered, and at the mercy of a warlord with a weapon he-"

The man behind the German viciously hit him in the back with the rifle butt, a loud stream of invective in what was likely Arabic immediately following.
"Gah, I can't say anything if you keep attacking me! British Captain, he demands your immediate surrender. Within ten seconds. I advise you do so - I've no idea what he intends for any prisoners. He may let you go free. He may make you an offer. I don't know."

Page replied as fast as he could. "Your 'warlord', as you said - are we to be taken to him?"
"Yes. Immediately."

Page swallowed heavily, and glanced around the room. If he focused, he could see the silhouettes of the other squadron members, all of them frozen in place, some desperately looking around for targets. He could feel their gaze on him. He took a deep breath, and measured his gut reaction.

Better some chance than no chance, old boy.

He carefully put the Webley on the ground.
"Everyone, put your weapons down. Now. This is a direct order."

As he said it, a cacophony of footsteps rang out from around the chamber, as many more unknown men streamed into the chamber, fanning out and moving to take custody of the squadron members and their armaments. Two of them bounded towards Page.
"If you bastards don't treat my soldiers correctly, I'll-"

Page's threat was interrupted by a heavy blow on the forehead with a rifle butt from one of his captors. All he heard was a sickening crack, and then sudden darkness set in...

---

As Noble was seized by her captors, she tried to resist as best she could. She knew it was futile, but it just felt so wrong to not even try fighting.

They grabbed her arms from both sides, and kicked her in the knee joint from behind to bring her down. One of them laughed in guttural Arabic to the other. She was a bit rusty, but she could still pick it apart without much conscious effort.
<<Hey Abdullah, this one is tiny! If this is who we'll have to fight our great war against...I'm not too worried.>>
His companion chuckled back.
<<He has girly hands, that's for sure. Poor, stupid bastard.>>

They began to drag her out towards the opposite end of the chamber...where she could soon see the another cave entrance, with torchlight spilling out...

[Morrdh]

When the voice had called out Charlie's self-preservation instincts kicked in and he quickly moved cover to the cave's wall to find some cover and had slowly edged back towards the entrance, thus far it had worked thanks the combination of the darkness and the direction all the torches were shining in. Crunching low and moving steadily he worked his way back towards the tunnel's entrance amidst the wrecked airship, hoping the LRDG boys had enough sense to hang around outside and cover them. If he could just reach them and fill 'em in on what had happened then perhaps they could turn the table on their would be captors.

[Altito Asmoro]

Edward began to put his rifle down, as the men began to grabbed him, Edward speak with a bit loud, in Arabic:

<<Bastard men! You know nothing! We in here will help you! Not kill you!>>

The men who grabbed him slightly shocked with what he said. Another foreigner who knows Arabic. The men seemed to be confused about what to do with him. So now, they just grabbed him, but not make him knocked out yet.

[The balkens]

Michael first resisted when a Arabic man tried to grab him.
He launched his head forward, his forehead hitting him. The man had a bloody nose that he was holding tightly.
<hey! I'm going to need help with this one!>
Two more came, grabbing michaels arms. He then felt a blow to the the his back. He collapsed but the two men caught him.
"fuckers, I'll kill all of you."
He said in a quiet anger.
Michael then saw noble, he was trying to figure what he could say without getting beaten again.
He said it in polish.
<LT noble, I'm sorry. I failed you>
He said quietly.
Michael felt defeated but seethed in anger.
He was greatly concerned with her safety, there was a another feeling too. But what was it?
If they touch her. I sware to god, I'll kill them all and leave them to fry out here.
ILL KILL THEM ALL
He grinded his teeth. Looking at noble and looked ahead to torch lit room.

[The Two Jerseys]

While Charlie had gone off to fetch Page, Talbot donned his gas mask and proceeded to inspect the Italian column. Lowering the tailgate on the first truck, he climbed up and threw the canvas cover open; peering around with his torch, he saw the bodies of several Italian troopers, some slumped over on the bench seats and some sprawled out on the floor of the cargo bed. None showed any obvious signs indicating a cause of death. The rest of the column followed a similar pattern, the men in the truck cabs sitting bolt upright and the men in the back sprawled all over the place; Talbot did notice, however, that the floors of several truck beds had large square-shaped patches that were dust-free, indicating that whatever cargo they had been carrying had been removed.

As he exited the last truck in the column and made his way to the front to find out what was taking Page so long to get there, Talbot spotted Corporal Sanders standing nearby with a radio set strapped to his back; lifting his gas mask in order to speak, he called out to get Sanders' attention: "Corporal!"

"Sir!" he responded, snapping to attention.

"Stand at ease," replied Talbot as he approached. "Have you seen where the devil my C.O. has gotten to?"

"I believe the Air Force have all gone in to search the wreckage, sir. Excepting yourself, of course."

"That's funny, I don't hear anyone moving around in there. How long have they been in there?"

"Don't rightly know, sir. Probably a good ten minutes I'd guess."

"Hmmm..." Talbot stared at the entrance to the wreckage for a moment before turning back to Sanders. "Corporal, would you mind getting your C.O. on that wireless for me?"

"Right away, sir!" Sanders picked up the receiver and twisted a knob on the radio, then spoke into the receiver: "Scorpion Edward calling Scorpion Ace, Scorpion Edward calling Scorpion Ace...sir, one of the Air Force boys would like a word. Stand by." He passed the receiver to Talbot.

"Major Birch, this is Flying Officer Talbot. A couple of things, sir. First off, I've inspected those Eyetie trucks, they're filled with dead Eyeties and whatever cargo they've been carrying has been removed. Could you send down your medical officer to give them a look and see if he can figure out what the hell took the lot out? And second, your corporal here says that my men have been inside the wreck for about ten minutes now without hearing any signs of movement from within. Request permission to take a party of your men inside and find out what the hell is going on down there."

[Neu Engollon]

De Broen laid his M1 Garand and Winchester shotgun on the ground, followed by the Webley revolver and he let one of the Arabs grab his knife out of his web gear without a struggle. There was a time to fight and a time to not put your fellows at unnecessary risk.

"Howzit!! Knock it off, all o' ye! If de Cap'n says surrender - We surrender...fer now. All dis crappin' bout and strugglin's ginna git us all killed when we're at our most vulnerable, wit' half our guns on de ground. So, knock it off ye dimwit foks!"
Nils had about had it with some of the denser members of Excalibur. If...when he made it out alive, and they finished this mission, he was going to transfer and he couldn't foresee much stopping him. It was time to be back with his fellow Saffies and leave this bosbefok pongo world behind. The sooner the better.

[Kouralia]

Smythe sighed and glanced around the chamber as a trio of the assailants moved in to subdue him. One of them carried a large rifle - bigger than the Lee Enfield even used in The Great War, he supposed it was a Mauser of the original crew, and far inferior to the #1 Mark 3 carried by the Staff. To do so, or not to do so... He wondered in his head: the Mauser-carrier could be dispatched with ease, then drawing the Browning and charging forward he could shoot one, grab the other and... No... Too many, he decided, sighing slightly. The NCO slowly placed his rifle on the floor, alongside his browning pistol and the seventeen inch bayonet. Half-smiling, he was forced to his knees and searched roughly by some of the men, gibbering away in some foreign lingo.

Here, there, they ran their hands down his sleeves, patted his chest and back, failed to notice three knives concealed in the boot, belt and cuff of the Brit. They quickly dragged him to his feet, and with Mr Mauser leading, the other two dragged the SNCO through after Lieutenant Noble. Though, as he passed he was just able to give Nils a wink to show the game wasn't completely lost.

[French Indochine]

The air hung still with the scent of dampness and age, as if the moisture that clung to the nostrils of those breathing their atoms in desperately wishes so after decades of being left in the dark. It, the air, was itself heavy with age; Sanders and the LRDG men who followed the RAF personnel into the passageway kept their distance. In fact, they were actually standing just right by the entrance to which they had come when the mysterious call to surrender rocketed through the moist darkness. Raising their weapons in response, Sanders watched as his RAF comrades in front of him bucked their knees and jocked their eyes as the call was repeated, its source unknown and camoflouged by the black darkness.

"Major Birch, this is Flying Officer Talbot. A couple of things, sir. First off, I've inspected those Eyetie trucks, they're filled with dead Eyeties and whatever cargo they've been carrying has been removed. Could you send down your medical officer to give them a look and see if he can figure out what the hell took the lot out? And second, your corporal here says that my men have been inside the wreck for about ten minutes now without hearing any signs of movement from within. Request permission to take a party of your men inside and find out what the hell is going on down there."

---

Back in the cold damp cavern, one of the LRDG soldiers who ventured in with the RAF squadron was having a hard time understanding what was going on as he struggled with two bulky Arabs attempting to seize him. Private Warren Yeatman was caught in a blur of confusion; the strange German calling on them to surrender was already disturbingly out of place, but the sudden surrender of the airmen under the orders of Captain Page was another. "Get off me asshole!" grunted the frightened soldier as his arms tangled with that of the two Arabs. Unlike the others however, Yeatman hadn't let go of his rifle completely - yet. As he witnessed the female leftenant, the big-mouthed South African, among others nearby, slowly droop their weapons to the cold ground with a sad metallic clap, Yeatman had only obeyed up to the last point, his trigger finger still trapped in the loop as the two assailants sprang on him. He continued to wrestle with his captors until a heavy boot was lunged at his face, smashing into his nose with a brutal crack. But with the shock of the impact came the reaction; the Arabs had failed to fully depart his rifle from him, and Yeatman suddenly gave the jerk of his trigger finger as his vision came to darkness.

---

Birch was intially surprised at the unfamiliar voice booming through the radio, but quickly responded otherwise. He slanted the phone lazily against his ear, "You know friend, I was just going to call you people and ask you the same thing - your captain's taking an awfully long time; he hasn't even reported back yet if there's actually anything! I suppose I'll call for another section, try and get word with Page if you're close by in the meantime. Birch out."

He worded the message onto Keatings, who was more than glad to follow after many minutes of silent boredom. As he spoke, he couldn't help but notice that a strange vibe was ringing within him, that something wasn't going to plan; Page was taking far longer than expected to report back of his findings.

---

On the far end of the line and taking cover behind a low ridgeline overlooking the silent Italian column, Keatings eagerly sprang from the sand and into the open ground. Finally, there's something up.

He perked around for movement, detecting that of one of the RAF personnel standing about. Recognizing the familiar face of Flying Officer Talbot, he signaling for several of his men to follow. After making it apparent that Sergeant Gardner would take over in his place during his absence, he turned to Talbot, who was by then exchanging some words with Sanders, a corporal from Wakeman's platoon. "You called? Any ideas of why their taking so long down there?"

[United Kingdom of Poland]

Matt had been near the entrance with several of the LRDG men. Upon hearing the call and Pages orders he ducted into the tunnel yanking one of the LRDG men with him. Motioning with his finger to shut up he lead them back to the entrance. He went in search of any of his squadmates and upon finding talbot told him what had happened.
"There is some sort of tunnel structure in the hills. it is controlled by some sort of warlord and they captured the other as far as I know. I only got away because I was close enough to the shadows to avoid notice. They heavily outnumber us and one spoke of some sort of secret weapon. What do you want to do."

[The Two Jerseys]

Birch was intially surprised at the unfamiliar voice booming through the radio, but quickly responded otherwise. He slanted the phone lazily against his ear, "You know friend, I was just going to call you people and ask you the same thing - your captain's taking an awfully long time; he hasn't even reported back yet if there's actually anything! I suppose I'll call for another section, try and get word with Page if you're close by in the meantime. Birch out."

He worded the message onto Keatings, who was more than glad to follow after many minutes of silent boredom. As he spoke, he couldn't help but notice that a strange vibe was ringing within him, that something wasn't going to plan; Page was taking far longer than expected to report back of his findings.

---

On the far end of the line and taking cover behind a low ridgeline overlooking the silent Italian column, Keatings eagerly sprang from the sand and into the open ground. Finally, there's something up.

He perked around for movement, detecting that of one of the RAF personnel standing about. Recognizing the familiar face of Flying Officer Talbot, he signaling for several of his men to follow. After making it apparent that Sergeant Gardner would take over in his place during his absence, he turned to Talbot, who was by then exchanging some words with Sanders, a corporal from Wakeman's platoon. "You called? Any ideas of why their taking so long down there?"

"Ah, Lieutenant, the corporal and I were just discussing that. I'm afraid I haven't the slightest idea what's taking them. Though I have a suspicion that we aren't alone here, it looks like somebody's removed the cargo from those lorries."

Back in the cold damp cavern, one of the LRDG soldiers who ventured in with the RAF squadron was having a hard time understanding what was going on as he struggled with two bulky Arabs attempting to seize him. Private Warren Yeatman was caught in a blur of confusion; the strange German calling on them to surrender was already disturbingly out of place, but the sudden surrender of the airmen under the orders of Captain Page was another. "Get off me asshole!" grunted the frightened soldier as his arms tangled with that of the two Arabs. Unlike the others however, Yeatman hadn't let go of his rifle completely - yet. As he witnessed the female leftenant, the big-mouthed South African, among others nearby, slowly droop their weapons to the cold ground with a sad metallic clap, Yeatman had only obeyed up to the last point, his trigger finger still trapped in the loop as the two assailants sprang on him. He continued to wrestle with his captors until a heavy boot was lunged at his face, smashing into his nose with a brutal crack. But with the shock of the impact came the reaction; the Arabs had failed to fully depart his rifle from him, and Yeatman suddenly gave the jerk of his trigger finger as his vision came to darkness.

Talbot, Keatings, and Sanders all heard the sound and turned to look at the wreck entrance. "Sounded like a gunshot," said Talbot; he heard the sound of footsteps approaching from the darkness. "Somebody's coming!" he shouted, bringing his shotgun to bear; Keatings and Sanders likewise trained their weapons on the entrance. As two men exited the darkness, Talbot recognized the first one. "Hold your fire! He's one of ours! Polanski, what the hell's going on down there?"

Matt had been near the entrance with several of the LRDG men. Upon hearing the call and Pages orders he ducted into the tunnel yanking one of the LRDG men with him. Motioning with his finger to shut up he lead them back to the entrance. He went in search of any of his squadmates and upon finding talbot told him what had happened.
"There is some sort of tunnel structure in the hills. it is controlled by some sort of warlord and they captured the other as far as I know. I only got away because I was close enough to the shadows to avoid notice. They heavily outnumber us and one spoke of some sort of secret weapon. What do you want to do."

"Jesus Christ almighty! Corporal, radio!" Sanders must have been reading Talbot's mind, as the receiver was in his hand in an instant. "Major, this is Talbot. One of my men just reported that the party inside has been captured by Arabs, apparently there's a tunnel system down there and they walked into an ambush. He also says that the Arabs have some sort of secret weapon down there. I've got Corporal Sanders' section with me, and Lieutenant Keatings is standing beside me, we can move in as soon as you give the order. Also, sir, I'd like to bring two of the Vickers guns along, hit those Arabs with everything we've got!"