Operation Southern Cross (Excalibur IC)

[The Tamerelian Empire]

Lev shook his head. "I wish we could use the machine gun, but we can't. We're too far away, and even if it's range was long enough, we wouldn't be able to hit them accurately, we would just be sspraying bullets in their general direction in the hopes that they will hit their mark. No, we need to get as close as we can so we can fire a grenade, which will be guaranteed to take them all out." He glanced back at the doorway. "And we need to do it fast, lest the rest of the squadron comes out and gets gunned down in the open." He took a few rifle grenades and a cup launcher and dropped them inside his pack, and crouched, ready to start running to the first crater. "I would appreciate some backup though, sirs."

[Morrdh]

"Ok 11, go get them. 10 you take point for now. See if you can find anything that looks like a usable landing strip. We may be the only help available for sometime." Polanski ordered. "Sword 9 to lead come in over, we're over your position now and would really like some sign that your still breathing over."

"Copy that Sword Nine, going fer a shutfi." Charlie replied as he turned onto a new heading that would take him in the direction of Rand.

---

Kaya groaned as she came round, nothing appeared to be broken even if she was sore pretty much all over. Wincing a little as she undid the straps of her seat, she glanced round at the wrecked fuselage of the Anson and muttered. "Well this looks like tis beyond fixing..."

[The Two Jerseys]

so what I propose is to jump from bomb crater to bomb crater until we get in range to fire rifle grenades. Can I have some support from one of you two sirs?

Stanford took the binoculars and peered through them, at the general area in which the Russian had suggested. In the darkness, the Flying Officer could just about make out the position and the snipers that occupied it.

"So, we've got binoculars...we've got tracer and we've got this bloody great machine gun...why can't we just hammer the bastards from here?"

Lev shook his head. "I wish we could use the machine gun, but we can't. We're too far away, and even if it's range was long enough, we wouldn't be able to hit them accurately, we would just be sspraying bullets in their general direction in the hopes that they will hit their mark. No, we need to get as close as we can so we can fire a grenade, which will be guaranteed to take them all out." He glanced back at the doorway. "And we need to do it fast, lest the rest of the squadron comes out and gets gunned down in the open." He took a few rifle grenades and a cup launcher and dropped them inside his pack, and crouched, ready to start running to the first crater. "I would appreciate some backup though, sirs."

"I'm inclined to agree with Stanford," replied Talbot. "Can you make out the range?"

[Goram]

Can you make out the range?

Stanford raised himself up slightly, peering intently through the binoculars

"I'm not sure"

He said, fiddling with the focusing wheel

"five or six hundred yards? You shoot, sir. I'll call your fall of shot until we get rounds on target."

In theory, the plan ought to work. The tracer fire would be clearly visible in the darkness and the machine gun's sights were marked out to 2,000 yards, which presumably meant the position was in range. On the other hand, there was a possibility that the rounds would be ineffectual.

"Lev, if you want to take those grenades and move under our cover, be my guest...if you run across one of them still alive on your way back, bring him in with you."

[Grenartia]

The noise continued as the squadron listened, ears pricked. It sounded like an odd hissing or buzzing, far off at the other end of the house.
"So," Alix breathed. "At least now we have something to investigate. Follow me..."

Smythe nodded, following on after Flight Lieutenant Noble to investigate the source of the sound. As he did so, he half turned and whispered to the remaining NCOs in his flight. "Okay guys, stick together in case this is a trap - there's no need to split up and look for clues."

Jimmy nodded and did as he was told, while asking himself "Who the hell splits up and looks for clues in a dangerous situation? You've got to either be braindead teenagers, reefer addicts, or both." Of course, he kept that line of thinking to himself, and quickly refocused on the task at hand. No time for musing on the actions of dumbasses right now, because, as he just pointed out to himself, this was a dangerous situation.

As soon as Noble gave the command, Smythe raised his rifle to his shoulder and squinted down the SMLE's sights toward the onrushing Boer soldiers. "Come on! Rapid fire!" he bellowed at the two flight sergeants, as if they needed further encouragement, before settling into the almost calming routine of fire and cycle.

On Smythe's words, Jimmy began firing his Browning at the OBs/UDFs heading for the house. Smythe asked for rapid fire, and the situation clearly demanded it, so that was what he was going to get. The Ragin' Cajun fired in short bursts, to maximize ammo usage and accuracy. By his count, he'd downed at least a half dozen OBs,

"CHANGE OF PLAN!" Alix yelled as soon as the shock had worn off. "BACK TO THE HOUSE! GET OUT OF THE OPEN!"
"I know where we can go!" Reide yelled as they broke away. "The basement looked pretty sturdy when I investigated it earlier - if that General's as paranoid as he's supposed to be, it's probably bomb-proof!"
"Good idea!" Alix replied. "Everyone, follow the Lieutenant here - we're hunkering down until this bloody dogfight or whatever it is lets up!"

"Oh great, the deathtrap retreat into the backwoods brownshirt's retreat. How poetic. I mean, for fucks' sakes, you don't gotta be Stonewall Jackson to know you don't want to fight in a fucking basement. Then again, it sure as hell beats being made into swiss cheese out here." Jimmy thought to himself, as he fell back into the basement with the rest of the squadron.

Smythe followed quickly on after Noble and Reide, ending up first in the basement after them. As soon as he was in position, he turned and covered the others as they came in with his SMLE. Hunkering down, the Colour prepared for the worst, keeping his eye down-range and only shifting his position slightly to turn and call to Flight Lieutenant Noble as she and Reide moved further into the bunker-like basement. "Will you be needing any additional assistance, ma'am?"

Alix checked their numbers. "...Sure. Hopefully, this'll be pretty easy to lock down, but it'll be good to have one more person. The rest of you, keep this place sealed up tight. Come on, Colour.>>

"Reide" cursed internally as they took up positions, him trying to hang behind while adjusting his plan. Dammit. Maybe...if I can get her in a headlock, I could keep her mouth shut and shoot that poncey Sergeant a few times in the back before he noticed...and make my getaway? Maybe toss a grenade back in the main room and cover my ass?
Looks like I don't have any other choice...

A few moments later, Alix could see the other entrance - nothing more than a few rungs sunk in the concrete wall, leading up to a hatch on the ceiling. Dutifully, Alix took cover in the doorway, Reide right behind her.
"Guess there's nothing else for it," Alix sighed, "but to sit here and wait for somebody to open that thing up."
We're trapped in here like sardines in a can. Bloody hell, is this it? Fell for another trap...God, I'm terrible at this.
She struggled to keep her emotions under control as, unbeknownst to her, "Reide" edged closer and closer, hand nearing his holster...

And then the hallway came apart like a cheap film set being hit by a hurricane.

A deafening series of cracks and bangs came down right above the trio, like punches from an angry and vengeful god, shaking the whole floor and visibly cracking the concrete/stone structure, tossing them to the floor.
The last thing Reide saw was a heavy-looking piece of cement, broken off from the ceiling, coming down right onto his face (and, by extension, his cheekbones).
Then blackness.

[...]

Everything was darkness and pain.
Then, a woman's voice, faint, but getting louder.
"...tenant Reide? Can you hear me? Are you still with us? Come on, say something."
He blinked his eyes open. It was dark. The pain in his head was indescribable. Something wet was running down his face.

A very beautiful woman was looking down on him a few inches above, a bloody cut above her right eye.

"Oh thank God, you're still alive. You really scared me." Alix sighed, leaning back (carefully, given that the hallway was now strewn with all sorts of sharp-edged debris). "Do you think you can stand up? Smythe, get over here-"
He checked his arms and legs. They seemed to be functioning all right.
"I...think I can stand."
Alix maneuvered herself under his arm to help pull him up. "If you're sure, then. Here, let me help anyway...that's it...almost..."
Staggering, he managed to stand unaided. "Thank you...erm...er..."

Who the hell was she? He felt that he knew her name, at least...but it was just beyond him...
The woman looked puzzled and concerned in equal measure.

And then it hit him.
Wait...
...Who am I?

Jimmy heard the noise from his position, and ran towards where it came from as fast as he could.

When he got there, he noticed the two Lieutenants and Smythe in the hall.

"Are yall ok? Do yall need any help?" Jimmy asked them.

[The Tamerelian Empire]

"Lev, if you want to take those grenades and move under our cover, be my guest...if you run across one of them still alive on your way back, bring him in with you."

Lev nodded. It would be harder that way, without any support, but he'd have to do it. "Just don't try to hit me," he said, smiling, and he sprung off the dirt into a quick sprint.

He tumbled into the nearest shell crater, jumping over the small flames into the deep black hole. Regaining his footing, he slowly lifted himself up to the rim, waiting for a bullet to knock his head off. Nothing. Slowly pulling up his binoculars to his dark eyes, in an attempt not to attract any attention from the snipers. Luckily, they were still aiming at the closed door, and not at him. In relief he sighed. Only 10 more craters to go, he said, melancholily, and started off again to the next hole.

[The Tiger Kingdom]

Wincing a little as she undid the straps of her seat, she glanced round at the wrecked fuselage of the Anson and muttered. "Well this looks like tis beyond fixing..."

"Oh come now, Corporal," Page mumbled, trying to conceal how relieved he was that she was all right.
At least the one person on this stupid plane I know I can trust didn't get their neck snapped.
"We've got to...keep a positive attitude...in these trying times..."
With a herculean effort, he forced himself to his feet and staggered through the slightly-tilted cabin to help the diminutive Corporal up. From his peripheral vision, he could see the starboard wing of the plane had been ripped off right down to the root in the crash, the engine burning merrily.

---

Choking with dust expelled by the explosion, Smythe slid himself out from under a small amount of dropped debris, though fortunately not so much as to pose much of a problem. Darting forward, he pointed his SMLE at the hatch, poking at it to make sure it was still shut with the rifle, now the light couldn't be relied upon so much. However, moments later he heard Lieutenant Noble call, and spun to see what the problem was. Dropping the rifle, he moved to help prop Reide up on his shoulder and take the weight from her.

"Are you okay, Lieutenant Reide?" He asked. "Can you feel everything, your hands and feet, nothing is overly numb?"

"Erm...I...I think so..." the Lieutenant responded tentatively, looking flustered and confused as he tested the integrity of his limbs, blood still dripping down his brow. "I...think...I think I just...banged my head a bit..."
Unsteadily, he managed to stand unaided, albeit still wobbling slightly.
"I think I'll...be all right-"
He wracked his brain to remember the man's name, but nothing came out. His eyes flashed over the man's insignia, and some tiny piece of his memory clicked into place automatically.
"- Sergeant. Thanks, though."
"You're sure?" Alix asked intently. "You look like you really got hit hard."
Should I tell her? Maybe she can help me...
Then, a note of caution crept into his thoughts. He couldn't really explain why, but it just seemed to be more sensible.
No. No sense in it. Surely...it'll all come back to me in a moment...
"Yes, I'm fine."

The conversation was then punctuated by the chatter of machine-gun fire from above. Alix bristled at the sound.
"Are some of our people still up there?"

---

Back at the crash...

"There you go," Page said as Kaya got to her feet. "Anybody else here still alive? Hello?"
Still trying to get his eyes focused, Page looked over towards the tail and the impromptu bomb-bay. He could see that for whatever reason, that particular sector of the plane was in far worse shape than the cabin, the metal crumpled and twisted. The body of the bombaimer lay still on the floor, facedown and unmoving.
Page quickly moved over and checked his pulse. Nothing. Dead as a doornail.
So that's three accounted for...

Moving up to the cockpit, he couldn't see hide nor hair of Coetzee.
"Hello? Anybody alive in - oh. Jesus."

It was carnage in there, enough to turn the stomach of a less-hardened man. The glass of the cockpit had evidently blown inwards upon impact, strewing the floor with thousands of razor-sharp shards. The pilot's limp body hung by the restraints in his seat, a massive dent visible in the dash where his head had impacted. Not much hope there.
The copilot had it even worse - judging from the evidence, he hadn't met his fate from the impact, but from the glass - a massive chunk of it was sticking out of his neck, and he was utterly soaked in blood.

"Shit," Page mumbled to himself as he turned back into the cabin, deciding not to dwell on that particular scene any longer.
But where was Coetzee?
At that moment, the radio, thrown up against the wall, crackled to life, barely comprehensible due to the abuse it had suffered.

"...9 to lead, come ..., we're over your position ...really like some sign that...breathing, over."

Page keyed the radio. "Nine, this is Lead. Are you receiving?"

[Kouralia]

Jimmy heard the noise from his position, and ran towards where it came from as fast as he could.

When he got there, he noticed the two Lieutenants and Smythe in the hall.

"Are yall ok? Do yall need any help?" Jimmy asked them.

"I think we're okay, thank you Flight." Smythe said, nodding acknowledgement to Jimmy as he engaged in the usual 'the person says they're fine, but I don't believe them' when you try to hover-hand pulling them up and holding them steady. "How are Sikorskivitch and the two Officers in there with you?" He continued, before being distracted as Noble was by the machine gun fire.

"Are some of our people still up there?"

"I shouldn't have thought so..." The Colour Serjeant said, "You ordered everyone down here, ma'am. Are they with you in there, Flight Sergeant?" He said.

[Grenartia]

Jimmy heard the noise from his position, and ran towards where it came from as fast as he could.

When he got there, he noticed the two Lieutenants and Smythe in the hall.

"Are yall ok? Do yall need any help?" Jimmy asked them.

"I think we're okay, thank you Flight." Smythe said, nodding acknowledgement to Jimmy as he engaged in the usual 'the person says they're fine, but I don't believe them' when you try to hover-hand pulling them up and holding them steady. "How are Sikorskivitch and the two Officers in there with you?" He continued, before being distracted as Noble was by the machine gun fire.

"Are some of our people still up there?"

"I shouldn't have thought so..." The Colour Serjeant said, "You ordered everyone down here, ma'am. Are they with you in there, Flight Sergeant?" He said.

"Actually, I'm the only one still down here, Colour." Jimmy said. "Lev and Stanford were down here, but they went back up, I haven't seen Talbot or Carter down here at all, and I haven't seen Taterbag since before we moved through the compound." he continued, omitting ranks in the interest of time.

[Kouralia]

Smythe paused, staring at Thibodeaux for a moment before replying. "Are you sure?" He asked, "They didn't even come down?" He sighed. "I'd never have expected Mr Talbot or Mr Stanford to refuse to soldier."

[Morrdh]

"Oh come now, Corporal," Page mumbled, trying to conceal how relieved he was that she was all right.
At least the one person on this stupid plane I know I can trust didn't get their neck snapped.
"We've got to...keep a positive attitude...in these trying times..."
With a herculean effort, he forced himself to his feet and staggered through the slightly-tilted cabin to help the diminutive Corporal up. From his peripheral vision, he could see the starboard wing of the place had been ripped off right down to the root in the crash, the engine burning merrily.

"Right skipper." Replied Kaya. "Least we've got a fair go o' getting out o' here, especially that we're not in a crocodile infested river."

"Though, wheres that bludger of a Saffie?"

[The Tiger Kingdom]

Smythe paused, staring at Thibodeaux for a moment before replying. "Are you sure?" He asked, "They didn't even come down?" He sighed. "I'd never have expected Mr Talbot or Mr Stanford to refuse to soldier."

Alix wasn't even surprised anymore that over a quarter of the squadron had decided to totally ignore her orders. Par for the course, really. Tamping down the anger was practically second nature at this point.
"We'll deal with that later. Right now, we need to get the hell out of here as quickly as we can. Our trucks should still be there, so at least we've got an evac plan. Fall in, Flight Sergeant - I'm going to try and see what the hell's going on out there, and I want you all with me. You sure you can climb up those rungs, Reide?"
He nodded. "S...sure."
"All right, then. Follow my lead."

Alix deftly leaped up the ladder, and, reaching the top, carefully pushed up the hatch. She looked around 360 full degrees. Nothing to be seen - at least, nothing so obvious as a horde of OB men waiting for them. Off in the distance, the gunfire continued.
"It's clear," she called down.

Carefully, she climbed up and emerged onto dirt and grass, back into the dark, relatively cool night. The house itself was about fifty feet to the west of them - evidently, Jackal had foreseen the need for a secret escape passage in the event of a surprise assault. Creeping forward, she tried to see what the hell was going on out front.
And then she saw all the bodies.
"Oh, Jesus Christ," she muttered to herself, suppressing the urge to retch - even at the distance she was at, the sight was gruesome enough to cause considerable physical turmoil and, as a crowning misfortune, the wind was blowing the indescribable burning stench right up at them.

The entire veldt plain serving as the sole avenue of approach to the estate - that only a few minutes before, they'd been creeping through - had been burned away, or was in the process of it. Throughout the now-barren patch of desolation, dozens of OB bodies could be seen - the soldiers had been cut down and burnt to cinders by their own bombs. Trying to puzzle out how that could've happened (partially as a means of distracting herself from the gut-wrenching sight), Alix could only guess that the dogfight had hurried and jostled the bombers too much, causing many of the bombs (but not all, as the darkening wounds on Reide's forehead could attest) to rather significantly miss their target. It was truly horrific to gaze upon.

Eyes frozen wide open at the carnage, Alix managed to notice that Talbot's impromptu MG post was still intact - clearly the source of the firing, as the White Flight lead picked off the handful of retreating OB survivors. She turned to her impromptu group, consisting now of Reide, Jimmy, Carter and Smythe.
"Follow me, and get ready to run."

With that, she quickly strode over to the MG position.
"WHITE LEAD! WE ARE PULLING OUT! FALL IN!"

---

"Oh come now, Corporal," Page mumbled, trying to conceal how relieved he was that she was all right.
At least the one person on this stupid plane I know I can trust didn't get their neck snapped.
"We've got to...keep a positive attitude...in these trying times..."
With a herculean effort, he forced himself to his feet and staggered through the slightly-tilted cabin to help the diminutive Corporal up. From his peripheral vision, he could see the starboard wing of the plane had been ripped off right down to the root in the crash, the engine burning merrily.

"Right skipper." Replied Kaya. "Least we've got a fair go o' getting out o' here, especially that we're not in a crocodile infested river."

"Though, wheres that bludger of a Saffie?"

Getting no immediate reply from the radio, Page turned his attention to this new mystery.
"Maybe he got thrown clear..?"
A groan from the outside of the plane cut him off. Looking out one of the windows, Page spied Coetzee slumped up against the fuselage outside, clutching what looked to be a bloody wound in the vicinity of his right hand and wrist.
"There you are! You all right there, Sergeant?"

Coetzee dramatically pulled himself to his feet.
"I think so, sir. I just got cut up on something in the crash...tried to crawl free, but I think I passed out for a few minutes...I'll be all right."

[United Kingdom of Poland]

"Sword 9 to sword 10. Maybe all this backstabbing bullshit is making me paranoid but considering that we just fought off a UDF bombing raid, that was helping our UDF "reinforcements " attack our friends, what do you think is the likelyhood that the guys at the base won't shoot us on sight. I think we should wait and follow our ground forces, just to be safe or, if possible, land down there for now."
Polanski then switched back to Page, hapy to here his commander still kicking so to speak. "Sword nine receiving. Lead what is your situation and is the area around the crash sight feasible for landing."

[Goram]

The machine gun hammered out it's deadly chatter, throwing tracer rounds out into the darkness. Stanford, armed with a pair of binoculars, observed the luminous green bolts impact well short and to the left of their of their intended target.

"Adjust fire, 100 yards up, 200 yards right"

He murmured, eyes glued to the target. Talbot said nothing, simply making the stated correction and letting off another looping burst of fire. This time, the tracer disappeared into the woodland scrub behind the intended mark.

"Too long now"

Stanford said

"Bring it back twenty yards and you should be on target"

Again, Talbot said nothing as he adjusted the machine gun's elevation and let off another short burst. Through the magnifying lenses of the binoculars, Stanford could clearly see the rounds impact the sniper's position - though the effect on target was unclear.

"Good shooting, Mr. Talbot, Sir. Rounds on target!"

The Flying Officer exclaimed as his Flight Commander let rip with the captured weapon. Dozens of rounds cut a bright green swathe over the land scape, arcing towards their destination. Stanford couldn't tell what effect they were having, but it seemed all but certain that the position would be suppressed if nothing else. The RAF man watched as the machine gun went about it's deadly work but by sheer coincidence he turned his head just enough to spot movement behind them, out of the corner of his eye. He wheeled around, in a crouched position, beginning to bring his rifle up to his shoulder as he did so. Suddenly, with the weapon half raised, he stopped himself as he recognised Flight Lieutenant Noble, as she alighted. Stanford lowered his head and let out a deep breath, muttering something to himself about how he could have shot her.

WHITE LEAD! WE ARE PULLING OUT! FALL IN!

Despite the fact that two flights had just held off a battalion sized counter-attack and survived a bombing, the Flight Lieutenant, curiously, did not seem in the best of moods. Then again, Stanford thought to himself, perhaps this wasn't the time for jocularity and the OB were almost certain to reform and charge again. Stanford was not convinced of the squadron's ability to hold them off indefinitely, so leaving was almost certainly the best course of action. Still, Lev was out there.

"Skip"

Stanford said, gesturing into the darkness with his bayonet

"We're missing two men. Sergeant Stickors...Sikorst......that Russian is somewhere out there and Sergeant Vegesack is unaccounted for."

[The Tiger Kingdom]

"Skip"
Stanford said, gesturing into the darkness with his bayonet
"We're missing a man. Sergeant Stickors...Sikorst......that Russian is somewhere out there."*

Alix raised a quizzical eyebrow. "You and Talbot want to go fetch him, then, and meet us back at the trucks? Surely you saw where he went. I know I didn't."

---

Just then, as Coetzee hauled himself back up, the radio came back to life. Page ducked back inside.

Polanski then switched back to Page, hapy to here his commander still kicking so to speak. "Sword nine receiving. Lead what is your situation and is the area around the crash sight feasible for landing."

Page took a long look around, trying to judge the unfamiliar topography in the dark. The land around them was reasonably barren, with only a few trees scattered irregularly about, but there were also noticeable dips and rises in the ground as it rolled on - and a lone road, stretching out from horizon to horizon. Clearly, this wasn't a farmer's field - this was way the hell out in the deep veldt.

He keyed the radio. "Nine, Lead - we've got three crew dead. Waddock, our UDF sergeant, and myself are pretty banged up, but I think we're all still fit to move and fight. If you want to come down here and join us, or vector somebody in to help us out, we'd appreciate the company - you may be risking your Spits, though, it's a little bumpy down here."
*OOC: Apologies for the edits, but seeing as how Quebec's inactivity has mandated his removal...

[United Kingdom of Poland]

"Skip"
Stanford said, gesturing into the darkness with his bayonet
"We're missing a man. Sergeant Stickors...Sikorst......that Russian is somewhere out there."*

Alix raised a quizzical eyebrow. "You and Talbot want to go fetch him, then, and meet us back at the trucks? Surely you saw where he went. I know I didn't."

---

Just then, as Coetzee hauled himself back up, the radio came back to life. Page ducked back inside.

Polanski then switched back to Page, hapy to here his commander still kicking so to speak. "Sword nine receiving. Lead what is your situation and is the area around the crash sight feasible for landing."

Page took a long look around, trying to judge the unfamiliar topography in the dark. The land around them was reasonably barren, with only a few trees scattered irregularly about, but there were also noticeable dips and rises in the ground as it rolled on. Clearly, this wasn't a farmer's field - this was way the hell out in the deep veldt.

He keyed the radio. "Nine, Lead - we've got three crew dead. Waddock, our UDF sergeant, and myself are pretty banged up, but I think we're all still fit to move and fight. If you want to come down here and join us, or vector somebody in to help us out, we'd appreciate the company - you may be risking your Spits, though, it's a little bumpy down here."
*OOC: Apologies for the edits, but seeing as how Quebec's inactivity has mandated his removal...

"Lead I'm going to see if I can contact 1 and get you guys a ride. Mrs. Waddock is already going to kill me for the peices of junkers sticking out of my plane."polanski said before switching over two the ground forces
"sword 9 to sword 1, we have sword leads crash site in view, we have three survivors who need medical attention and a lift back to base if possible, over."

[Morrdh]

"Sword Ten here." Charlie called out over the radio. "I'm experienced with rough landings, dirt airstrips that is before some joker says anything."

"I'm gonna do a couple of passes and then try to put the old gal down."

---

"Well waste not, want not." Kaya muttered before she turned to Coetzee and ordered. "YE! Make yerself useful and see 'bouts clearing a rough strip."

"I'll be seeing wot I can salvage from this wreck."

[The Tamerelian Empire]

Rolling into the hole, Lev closed his eyes. All right, we're here. He closed his eyes, and felt he was beginning to sweat, as a drop trickled down his nose. Slowly removing the Mills Bomb, he fastened the cup launcher to his rifle with a quiet click. Before he could finish the problem, there was a bright burst of fire behind him, and he could see tracer fire zipping quickly past to his right. Looks like Stanford was right, he thought. That automatic does have the range. He briefly contemplated turning back, but then decided against it. It doesn't have the accuracy, though. I shouldn't waste this chance.

There was a crack from in front of him, and Lev instinctively collapsed to avoid the sniper's bullet which had just passed over his head. Maybe they're not aiming at me though... He grabbed a handful of dirt and slowly crawled to the edge of the hole. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the soil in his hands across the field, and there was another shot, this time in the direction of the dirt. So they were aiming at him. They were aiming at anything in everything that moved That's a problem.

I have to do this fast, he thought. He grabbed the Mills Bomb from his pack and pushed it into the launcher. Cocking the gun, he rose up out of the hole and aimed the gun at the sniper position, ready to fire. To his horror, however, the snipers had beat him to it.

There was a sharp pain in his chest, and he cried out in pain as he saw his dirtied uniform wet with blood. There was another eruption of pain, and another, across his back. The pangs made his already itchy finger reflexively pull the trigger on the gun, and he saw the grenade fly of the launcher and a bright explosion light up the dark forest, sending body-shaped silhouettes flying into the air. But it didn't matter, at least not to Lev, as he crumpled to the ground in a slump. He saw darkness, and winced as a bright light emerged from the black, encompassing all his vision.

What the... He realized he was standing at the front steps of an old house. His house, in Russia. There was a man and a woman standing next to him, considerably older. The man must be...his father, his murdered father, and the woman must have been his missing mother. "Papa?" His father put his arm around Lev's body, drawing him into a hug. "It's all right, son." Lev stared ahead in wonder, repeating the words "It's all right. It's all right. over and over, as his universe slowly faded into oblivion.

[United Kingdom of Poland]

"Sword Ten here." Charlie called out over the radio. "I'm experienced with rough landings, dirt airstrips that is before some joker says anything."

"I'm gonna do a couple of passes and then try to put the old gal down."

---

"Well waste not, want not." Kaya muttered before she turned to Coetzee and ordered. "YE! Make yerself useful and see 'bouts clearing a rough strip."

"I'll be seeing wot I can salvage from this wreck."

Polanski couldn't believe his ears. "You want to take over the flight for now ten, this seems to be you area of expertiece." Matt really didn't like the idea of trying to land a damaged fighter, in the dark, for the first time. But having Charlie attempt it more or less forced his hand. One, he couldn't leave his wingman alone, even a super experienced night fighter wingman. Second he hated the idea of possible fighting against enemy aircraft, in a damaged bird, at night, alone even more then landing said plane.
"See if you can set you plane down intact first. If thats possible I'll turn on my lights and you can guide me in like during a carrier landing."

[Morrdh]

"Just to clarify Sword Nine," Charlie called out. "I'm gonna try a circuit and bump rather than a full proper landing."

"Wanna see if we can land a transport plane to pick our lot up, otherwise it'll be a job for the pongos." Continued Charlie as he began his first pass, trying to spot a decent amount of clear ground to use as a dirt runway in the failing light.

[Kouralia]

Following Alix out of the basement, Smythe tried to stay alert on the surface, ever wary that just because a bombing raid had been dumped on the OBs' heads, and that most of them were now being suppressed by the other Officers, it didn't mean that there were none around who would take a swing at them. Keeping low and with his SMLE in hand, the SNCO kept as low as possible as he took a knee while Stanford ran up and explained the situation. "What...a..." Smythe muttered, before sighing. Not only had the Russian Flight Sergeant managed to act in direct contravention of Ms Noble's orders, but he was also now missing.

[Goram]

You and Talbot want to go fetch him, then, and meet us back at the trucks? Surely you saw where he went. I know I didn't.

Geoff thought about protesting. Going out into the Veldt, with a sizeable foe still lurking in the darkness, seemed like a disagreeable idea - on that might adversely affect the health of someone stupid enough to go out there. On the other hand, a member of the squadron was out there and they couldn't simply leave him. Rather than voice his concerns, Talbot simply picked up his weapon and checked the contents of the magazine. Reseating the fifty round drum, which was virtually full, he chambered a round and turned to Stanford.

"Mr. Stanford"

Talbot began

"Let's go and fetch Sergeant Sikorskivitch back"

Stanford, like his Flight Lieutenant, had misgivings. Going into the darkness to find a chap who, frankly, ought not to have gone out there in the first place. Stanford sighed inwardly, resigning himself to the task. With rifle in hand, he followed Talbot over the makeshift sandbag wall and out onto the Veldt. Almost immediately, it was apparent to the two men that the action of only a few minutes ago had been a damned close run thing. The enemy had come extremely close to overrunning the position and it looked as though Excalibur had only been saved by the bombs that had fallen short and broken up the attack. If the enemy, who ever they were, came again, then Stanford was unsure if they could be held back.

The two men moved slowly through the sea of bodies, crouched low with weapons at the ready. Suddenly, the darkness was rolled back as the full moon appeared from behind a cloud, bathing the Veldt in a eerie silver light. Both Talbot and Stanford dropped to the ground immediately, wary of being caught on open ground. When no shots rang out, the two RAF officers cautiously pulled themselves back to their feet. What they saw, illuminated by the moon, was shocking to say the least. The bodies around them had been torn apart and many severely burnt. It was a scene that resembled an abattoir. However, both men were combat veterans by this point. The dead did not phase them. What shocked them was the uniforms the corpses were adorned with. The two members of White Flight stopped by one body, more or less intact, re-assumed their prone position.

"Jesus Christ...he's wear-"

Stanford muttered

He's wearing bloody UDF uniform.

The Flight Lieutenant finished his subordinate's sentiment. A quick glance at two or three bodies in close proximity confirmed it - they were all wearing UDF uniform. It looked, as if more proof were needed, that the mission had indeed been a trap and that the UDF battalion, assigned to support the British squadron, had been in on it.

"They betrayed us..."

Stanford said

"What about that chap Reide? and that other fellow, Coetzee, in the Anson?"

As Stanford spoke, he recalled seeing the aircraft passing much lower than it ought to have been flying. Perhaps Coetzee was indeed in on it, perhaps there had been some act of sabotage or other treachery?

I'm not sure, Mr. Stanford

Geoff said, quietly

That fellow Reide appeared to shoot just as many of them as you or I. I'm not sure who we can trus-

It was at that moment that a burst of rifle fire and an explosion rang out across the silent plain.

Sounds like Lev's in a fix. We haven't got time to discuss it now, we'll tell Noble when we get back.

Talbot continued. The two men stood up, weapons in hand, and began to make their way towards the explosion at a much quicker pace. When they arrived, it was clear that this had been the sniper's nest that Lev had engaged. The fragmenting bomb had hit the target squarely, appearing to have killed everyone in the dugout. Appearances, however, were deceiving. One man, covered in the blood of the two dead men and, by the looks of it, no older than 18, suddenly moved.

"Don't shoot. Please, don't shoot"

His voice wobbled as he spoke the heavily accented words. The sudden animation almost caused Stanford to shoot the man then and there, but he managed reigned himself in. Talbot, Thompson levelled at the boy, stepped forward and grabbed him by his webbing.

I'll watch this one

he said, restraining the UDF trooper's hands as he did so

You find Lev

Stanford hopped out of the dugout and set about his task. With the moon still out from behind the clouds, it didn't take him long to find the Russian replacement. Stanford's heart dropped as he found him lying on his back, in a shallow crater. It appeared that Lev had been shot twice and it did not look good. The Flying Officer checked the man for a pulse. For a time he could feel nothing but then, after a few seconds, he thought he felt a very weak movement. Stanford was unsure if the Russian was dead or not, but that was immaterial. The RAF officer knelt beside the Russian and attempted to do what he could, attaching field dressings to two wounds. Stopping the bleeding, however, would not be enough. If the Russian Sergeant was still alive, he needed a hospital and he needed it fast.

"Come on old boy."

He muttered to Lev

"We can't leave you out here, on your own."

Douglas slung his rifle and hefted Lev up into his arms, cradling the dead or dying man across his chest.

"Mr. Talbot"

He said, quitely

"I think Lev's gone. We'd best be getting back."

The two men moved as quickly as possible towards the start line and their agreed rendezvous with the rest of the unit. Miraculously, Stanford and Talbot managed to avoid contact with the UDF as they moved through the trees. It was just as well that they did, owing to the fact that Stanford was carrying Lev and Talbot had the teenage UDF trooper at gun point.

The two men arrived at the rendezvous point marginally before the rest of the unit. Stanford laid the critically wounded Russian on the ground, before jumping into the back of the abandoned truck, searching desperately for any sort of medical equipment. As the rest of the Excalibur ground contingent drew closer, Talbot called out for them to identify themselves. Satisfied as to their identity, the Flight Lieutenant approached Noble, prisoner in tow, taking great care to isolate her from Reide.

Ms. Noble. We found Lev. He's in a bad way. Mr. Stanford is rendering what aid he can, but he needs a hospital and he needs it fast.

he began

Also, the men who attacked us. They're all wearing UDF uniform. Now, I don't know what's going on, but this fellow -

Talbot gestured at the teenage soldier with the muzzle of his Thompson

Seems like he might be the cooperative sort. Perhaps you ought to have a quick word with him?

[Kassaran]

The explosion lit up the ground, and from above it was a bright beacon recentering the slightly disoriented pilot. The light from the fires of the plane wrecks was beginning to die down and nosing towards the explosion, he increased the throttle and bore in on the increase with speed, pulling up as he began to see some definition in the flames below. His right wing dipped to the ground, he took a look out of what was the top of his canopy towards what remained of the estate and tapping his foot on the left rudder, he gained a little bit more altitude and once again went in to pull arund for another pass, speaking into his radio yet again," White Flight, Red Flight, anyone down there, you have air support if needed, requesting that anyone still alive down there give me further orders. I repeat, White Flight, Red Flight, anyone down there, you have air support if you need it."

[The Tiger Kingdom]

"Mr. Stanford"

Talbot began

"Let's go and fetch Sergeant Sikorskivitch back"
Stanford, like his Flight Lieutenant, had misgivings. Going into the darkness to find a chap who, frankly, ought not to have gone out there in the first place. Stanford sighed inwardly, resigning himself to the task. With rifle in hand, he followed Talbot over the makeshift sandbag wall and out onto the Veldt.

Alix watched them go, unsure if she was doing the right thing by letting them go off alone, even in the midst of her deferred anger at their disobedience. But then she remembered that if they hadn't left in the first place, Lev never would have left with them, and her feelings hardened up once again.
I can't be everywhere, and they need to take responsibility for him on this one.

Alix turned back to her group, no longer quite so slumped down now that the shooting had mostly faded away.
"Fall in, all of you. I think I remember the way..."

---

It was tense, navigating in the dark (especially given the omnipresent wildlife risk...if there was a leopard or cobra laying it wait for them somewhere, there was no chance in hell of seeing it before it was on top of them now) , but Alix's memory was on the money, to her relief - the group was in sight of the trucks when something occurred to Alix.
"Lieutenant Reide, your radio - is it still working? It probably got pretty banged up when the tunnel came down on us like that."
Reide, his head throbbing like crazy and feeling like he was moving while submerged in water, looked back stupidly over his shoulder at the assemblage of stuff he just realized (remembered?) he had strapped to his back.
"Erm...I think it's all right...", he mumbled noncommittally.
Realizing how dull and slurred his voice sounded, Alix suddenly realized that she probably shouldn't count on his singular assessment very much at the moment, given the whole situation with his head. Poor man's probably barely upright.

For a second, it flashed across her mind once again how much she could actually trust Reide. She couldn't prove anything yet, but she'd bet her life that the battalion that had come out of the woods to ambush them had been their UDF "backup" - after all, who else could they have been, knowing that they'd been right on the scene and that the UDF itself was about as secure as a wet paper bag? The whole institution was clearly rotten clean through - if not right to the core, then damn close to it.

But Reide had held the line right along with them...had fired upon, if he was an OB man, what would have been his co-conspirators...and had been wounded in action. What was more likely - that he was some kind of supremely villainous assassin sent to kill them off for some reason after the big trap had been sprung? Or that he was simply a good man caught up in a dirty army?
She knew which side of that particular fence she was on so far, to be sure.

"Here, let me take a look...hold still for a moment," she said, dropping behind him. She was hardly an expert herself, but another pair of eyes couldn't hurt. She scanned the radio...nothing appeared too out of place - but-

"Wait - is it actually...switched on?"
Reide screwed up his brow, confused. "Isn't it?"
"I don't think it is. That's odd, must've gotten turned off when all that stuff fell on you."
Alix reached out a hand and flipped it on. Suddenly, an onslaught of noise poured out, the messages blending into each other, only fragments being both audible and distinguishable.

"sword 9 to sword 1, we have sword leads crash site in view, we have three survivors who need medical attention and a lift back to base if possible, over."

" White Flight, Red Flight, anyone down there, you have air support if needed, requesting that anyone still alive down there give me further orders. I repeat, White Flight, Red Flight, anyone down there, you have air support if you need it."

She allowed herself a single, very tired-sounding laugh as she began to realize how much she'd missed.
"Well, there's that mystery solved. Hand me the receiver."
He did so.
"Nine, this is One - sorry, we've had a radio malfunction down here, and we've been a bit cut off. Can you repeat? Eleven, stand by..."

---

Meanwhile, at the crash site...
Overall, Page wasn't too worried as chatter confirmed that Blue Flight were inbound to help out. Sure, they may have crashed, and the entire South African military may have turned on them...but yet, somehow, this wasn't really sinking in. And he was cognizant that it wasn't sinking in...yet even that didn't bother him.
He felt pretty damn good, really. Not really much he could do here, aside from help guide Charlie down. It looked like he had things covered. Kaya sounded like she had a plan of her own as well.

"Well waste not, want not." Kaya muttered before she turned to Coetzee and ordered. "YE! Make yerself useful and see 'bouts clearing a rough strip."

"I'll be seeing wot I can salvage from this wreck."

Coetzee swore under his breath. This was ridiculous. Why, why didn't he kill Page and the girl first, when he had the chance? He must have been addled from the crash to go for the co-pilot first. It had been bad luck that Voerman hadn't made it in the crash, and good luck that the pilot hadn't as well - so it was about even on the draw - but the co-pilot was still alive, and for some stupid reason, he'd decided to take care of him first before attending to the British friends. Then, just as he'd finished up carving the copilot a new one, the girl had come to - and so did the Captain. He'd had to duck out at the last second and fake being unconscious outside to avoid suspicion.

It was a good thing that Captain was no coroner (and likely as addled as Coetzee himself was from the crash) and didn't notice the massive, windpipe-severing slit under the copilot's neck. Think that was glass?
Ha.
Hardly.

And now, here he was, being ordered around by some stupid girl under Page's eye. Going about her orders as he had to, he tried to think of a new plan.
Fok it. I can stab Page in the back before he even knows what happened. The girl will be no trouble. And then-

"Sword Ten here." Charlie called out over the radio. "I'm experienced with rough landings, dirt airstrips that is before some joker says anything."

"I'm gonna do a couple of passes and then try to put the old gal down."

His thoughts were blown away in the wind kicked up by the Spitfire's low pass right overhead.
Only one came in to fill the void.
Too late.
The rest of Excalibur had caught up. His window of opportunity had closed.

[Grenartia]

Smythe paused, staring at Thibodeaux for a moment before replying. "Are you sure?" He asked, "They didn't even come down?" He sighed. "I'd never have expected Mr Talbot or Mr Stanford to refuse to soldier."

Thibodeaux nodded in the affirmative to Smythe, before following Alix and Reide up the ladder.

Smythe paused, staring at Thibodeaux for a moment before replying. "Are you sure?" He asked, "They didn't even come down?" He sighed. "I'd never have expected Mr Talbot or Mr Stanford to refuse to soldier."

Alix wasn't even surprised anymore that over a quarter of the squadron had decided to totally ignore her orders. Par for the course, really. Tamping down the anger was practically second nature at this point.
"We'll deal with that later. Right now, we need to get the hell out of here as quickly as we can. Our trucks should still be there, so at least we've got an evac plan. Fall in, Flight Sergeant - I'm going to try and see what the hell's going on out there, and I want you all with me. You sure you can climb up those rungs, Reide?"
He nodded. "S...sure."
"All right, then. Follow my lead."

Alix deftly leaped up the ladder, and, reaching the top, carefully pushed up the hatch. She looked around 360 full degrees. Nothing to be seen - at least, nothing so obvious as a horde of OB men waiting for them. Off in the distance, the gunfire continued.
"It's clear," she called down.

Carefully, she climbed up and emerged onto dirt and grass, back into the dark, relatively cool night. The house itself was about fifty feet to the west of them - evidently, Jackal had foreseen the need for a secret escape passage in the event of a surprise assault. Creeping forward, she tried to see what the hell was going on out front.
And then she saw all the bodies.
"Oh, Jesus Christ," she muttered to herself, suppressing the urge to retch - even at the distance she was at, the sight was gruesome enough to cause considerable physical turmoil and, as a crowning misfortune, the wind was blowing the indescribable burning stench right up at them.

The entire veldt plain serving as the sole avenue of approach to the estate - that only a few minutes before, they'd been creeping through - had been burned away, or was in the process of it. Throughout the now-barren patch of desolation, dozens of OB bodies could be seen - the soldiers had been cut down and burnt to cinders by their own bombs. Trying to puzzle out how that could've happened (partially as a means of distracting herself from the gut-wrenching sight), Alix could only guess that the dogfight had hurried and jostled the bombers too much, causing many of the bombs (but not all, as the darkening wounds on Reide's forehead could attest) to rather significantly miss their target. It was truly horrific to gaze upon.

Eyes frozen wide open at the carnage, Alix managed to notice that Talbot's impromptu MG post was still intact - clearly the source of the firing, as the White Flight lead picked off the handful of retreating OB survivors. She turned to her impromptu group, consisting now of Reide, Jimmy, Carter and Smythe.
"Follow me, and get ready to run."

With that, she quickly strode over to the MG position.
"WHITE LEAD! WE ARE PULLING OUT! FALL IN!"

Jimmy scrunched up his face in reaction to the olfactory assault upon his nose. Not that he hadn't smelled similar things before, but rather that he wasn't expecting to smell them now. He recalled one instance at his family's fishing camp where he had caught and cleaned a massive 4ft catfish (not an easy feat, but the meat he'd gotten from it made it certainly worth while), and threw the carcass back into the bayou. The next day, he walked outside, only to find that something had dragged the carcass back on shore, and had eaten part (but by no means all) of it. This having happened at the beginning of August, right in the dog days of summer, the stench was certainly ripe. Of course, the current smell wasn't exactly the same, but the similarities couldn't be ignored.

"Follow me, and get ready to run."

With that, Jimmy was pulled back into the situation at hand.

Alix turned back to her group, no longer quite so slumped down now that the shooting had mostly faded away.
"Fall in, all of you. I think I remember the way..."

As the group walked back, Jimmy began wondering about Lev. He didn't know him very well, but Lev still seemed like a pretty ok guy. When they finally got there, Jimmy noticed Stanford carrying Lev.

"How's he doing, Flying Officer?" Jimmy asked as he walked up to Stanford.