The Den Games Network Forum RPG
virtualoctopus, CKW, Wesforce
"Damn... You're right." Chance smote himself on his forehead in a "forgetful old me" gesture.
"We dug up the info for the site, but forgot to do the same for the bad guys. I'll call Crash. Why don't you give a call to Zizz too? We might be able to tear them away from Lady Zero and that wierd devil-girl respectively."
No-one would ever (nor could ever) have called Fardel North 'an outstanding example of humanity'. The guy didn't even look human.
He was standing in a dirty brown trenchcoat in the corner of the bar, almost hiding inside it like a small animal in it's burrow. He seemed to fit into the surroundings perfectly - the Orks drinking the thick, frothy local brew didn't notice him. Even the over-enthusiastic barmaid ignored him, seemingly unworried that he was standing in the tavern, and not purchasing anything.
His eyes caught Raven's as the long-haired man stepped in, clanking the wooden door against the wall. Raven didn't remember them being so unnerving - yellow slits in a dark, empty face. Surely his mentor hadn't looking this evil fifteen years before?
"Raven". The voice croaked, like a frog, shrunken features moving in sixteen ways no human face would. "It is good to see you again, back into the fold".
"Fardel, nice as it is to see you again..." (Raven chocked back a sickening feeling as the old man lifted one pockmarked hand to feel his face) "...I need to sell these slaves and get out of here. The authorities seem to want another little chat with me."
Fardel laughed, hollow and abruptly. "I don't think the 'cops will have many problems with you if you stick with your old master. The new boss pays well - and not just in Nuyen."
"I do think we should check the slaves now. They guarded by my student, a unpromising goblin named Huron. I don't trust him with them or my van for any longer than I have to."
"Still the paranoid young man you used to be, eh?" The withered face contorted into a twisted grin, and a blast of putrid air whipped past Raven as the old man exhaled. "Very well. I shall see your stock. I hope it's not a waste of my time."
Raven began to feel more uneasy, as he thought of his friends waiting in the van outside. This was quite likely going to fail.
A man walked towards the two people.
"You, over there. Why don't you stop blabbering about, and pay attention to him"
He pointed at Raven.
"What's your problem, chummer?"
"MY problem. Um Yeah. I AM STUCK IN THIS DEPRAVATED COUNTRY DUE TO THE INNEFICIENT PILOT OF THE CONCORDE 3 THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BRING ME BACK TO LONDON!"
The old man retreated.
"And please, give him something to drink. I have seen so much misery these days. I will pay the drink, and a little fee to you."
The old man smiled.
"If you say so... Waitress!"
Meanwhile, the man kneeled over Raven.
"Raven, what the hell are you doing here?"
Raven did not see the face of the unknown man, as he was covered with a robe.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Slayer, nice to meet you. A friend of mine talked about you and several of your teammates."
"Now," began Fardel, "that we have refreshed this stranger, perhaps we should see to the slaves you were so anxious to show me?"
Raven agreed. "Wait here!" he whispered urgently to the mysterious stranger, and followed his former mentor out into the street. He didn't notice the cloaked man wander across the bar, and take a seat by the window, looking out.
Raven's van was parked outside, in a muddy, cobbled street. It was smeared with brown, and looked rather more damaged than Slayer remembered. He saw the man wrestle with a damaged door, before it swung open, revealing his 'slaves'.
Mary. Silvia. Tank. Another Ork and two elves he didn't recognise -although the female elf looked good.
This was interesting. Very interesting.
"Well, what do you think?"
The old man looked distastefully along the slaves, his eyes spending considerably more time on the women than the men. Mary thought as if she was being analysed by some ancient, wrinkled computer.
"This your first time, boy?"
"Could have got more women". A scrawny, grey-green arm shot out, and grabbed Hurricane's arm, exposed in the unmodest slave's outfit. Hurricane jerked it back reproachfully.
"Need to get some less fiesty ones as well. The master likes his women submittent - although he does have means to make them like that".
The old man began to cackle.
In the little side room, Cylinder Head had managed to get Illidia alone. Kneeling down on the bed, he took one last look around to see if that Shadow guy was around.
"Um, Cy, do we... Have time for this?" Illidia whispered, as he started trying to undress her.
Man, its been so long... Cy thought, his tiny mind full of debauched thoughts racing like a V-12 Haven't had a girl since my heli got broke...
"Uh, what?" He said, then "Oh, yeah, we'll be okay. Lay back on the mattress baby..."
Illidia stopped Cy.
"I am sorry, Cy, but I can't... I can't do it... Not now. I am unsure... I can't think about anything but Dragon now... I need time"
Cy felt as if all of his illusions were broken. He sniffled.
"But I... I"
Illidia hugged him. Not like a girlfriend or such, more like a mother.
"Cy, you must understand..."
Frag it! Not again! I WAS SO CLOSE!
Cylinder Head wanted to scream. But he didn't. He didn't quite cry either, thus saving some of his dignity.
Illida held him in an embrace, like the mother Cy had never had - He was a child of the streets, always lonely, unloved.
And now she's taken away from me, all thanks to that Fragging Dragon guy! If he wasn't already dead... I'd kill him...
After a good few moments, Cy disentangled himself, and put on his toughest-sounding voice.
"Ahem. Okay, thank Illidia. Anyhow, we'd better get the stuff loaded now." And he turned his back on her, walking away.
While he thought no-one was watching, he walked to his Land Rover 2046.
You'll never let me down, will ya, baby?
He kissed the purple camo-pattern paintwork.
Shadow looked over to his companions and nodded over in the direction that the women (Crystal) and the man (Crash) headed after the other 2 members left.
He walked over to a nearby ambulance and got in quickly.
Shadow fired up the ignition and drove off towards the direction the train went in.
He could hear the train in a distance and had been in this part of town before.
Shadow turned on a side road, sharply, speeding up more and more.
Lukas soon came to the railroad tracks that were above on a bridge, he could still hear the train.
When he saw it coming, he got out of the ambulance and looked around to make sure that no one could see him.
As soon as the train had passed a bit under the bridge, he jumped and landed with a thud on one of the train cars.
Shadow held on as the train continued in the direction it was heading.
Cylinder Head looked around the warehouse. He couldn't find Shadow anywhere. True to his namesake, he disappeared whenever you turned a light on him.
Cylinder Head flipped up the screen of his wristphone.
Crystal received the call - Cylinder Head's silver-hair framed face filled the screen.
"Its that Shadow geezer. He's gone."
"How the frag should I know? He's like a ghost. One minute he's there, the next he's not. Like he walked through a wall or something. You think the Puppet Master's pulling something on us, setting us up?"
"I'd be surprised if he wasn't. Okay, get here as soon as you can Cy."
"Yeah. I got some interesting toys to bring. Don't get your pretty ass shot off without me coming to take the holopics first."
Cy turned to Illidia. She was doing something, bending over to get at the computer console. Cy caught himself staring, and shook his head.
"Illidia, we gotta go to the Tilt-Wing soon, if we're to catch up with the others. Are you coming?"
Shadow stuck to the shadows along the buildings and sidewalks.
He followed the man and woman through alleyways and backstreets.
Lukas continued to swiftly run down the alleyways and he hears them exchange words in a conversation.
He continued to hear the conversation, until the women's wristwatch went on.
Shadow heard his name and was able to hear the whole conversation, after it was over he stood there for a moment.
He continued to follow them due North, into the night.
The trio arrived at Ellesmere Port three hours after they left Cylinder and the others at the bar. Both Crash and Zizz had been contacted, but both were busy with their respective female friends. The teen decker promised a decked Matrix-derived intelligence run-down on the IWS shipment prior to Cy's pickup of Crystal's team while the wing-man promised to be on board the Aerobus when it arrived.
The three runners made their way down south of Ellesmere Port to a suitable ambush site. In a particularly rough patch of road flanked by ragged hedges and small vegetated hillocks on both sides, Chance marked out the ideal ambush spot.
With Ash guarding them, Crystal and Chance began the tricky job of rigging up the charges. There were two flavours... The self-forging armour-killing ones and the Claymore-styled people-killing ones. Lining the insides of the ice-cream containers with a layer of plastic explosive, the two runners either fitted in metal funnels (to make the self-forging slug) or embedded ball bearings (to make a shotgun-like kill-spray of metal balls) into the soft putty-like PE.
Then they poked holes at the bottom and aimed the improvised devices towards the road, open ends towards the enemy. The anti-armour ones were situated at the front to wreck the road-rail engine of the lead car, the anti-personnel ones scattered around to nail anyone who got out of the train. Sited within the bushes, the mines were invisible to anyone unaware of their presence.
Det-cord was shoved into the holes and sealed with duct tape, then buried and led together into a bundle capped by an electrical detonator. At this point, Chance rigged the vibrator of the old-style handphone to the explosive cords, leaving only the antenna poking out... A simple call to the phone now from anywhere in the country would cause the small vibrator motor inside to activate, and blow the anti-armour train-stopper charges along with it.
Another detonating device, this time a pager with a vibrator and different number from the phone, was rigged to trigger the anti-personnel claymore mines... Chance intended to blow these after the enemy had jumped off the wrecked train to investigate.
All the preparation took one hour or so, the trio now settling down to wait for Cylinder's Aerobus to arrive and pick them up for the ship assault.
"Yes, I am coming. After all, I want also to try to be a runner!"
She loaded a gun, aimed and checked the deviation of the barrel.
She shot at some stuff, getting only perfect shots.
"WOA! Where did you learn to do that?" asked Cy.
"From the book of Dragon."
At the very mention of Dragon's name, a curious feeling swept over Cylinder Head.
First he couldn't breathe.
His vision swam red. He felt very heavy, the ground seemed a lot closer.
Then suddenly, he was on the ground looking up.
He sprang up again, jumping to his feet, but dangerously unsteady. He almost toppled.
A great roaring filled his ears - Like a Concorde 3000 powering for Ballistic lift.
It died down.
It was the sound of his breathing.
Eventually the heavy-3000bpm drum machine of his heart slowed too.
His vision cleared.
"Are... are you alright?" Illidia asked.
"I'm... I'm fine. Sorry Illidia, um, allergies, and stuff..."
Allergic... To the name of DRAGON!!!
Without further ado, he got back into the LandRover with Illidia, and they drove to the heliport, and Cy's waiting Tilt-wing.
At 03:35, the sky was beginning to lighten. Crouched on the rise of a small dirt hill - The grass festering and reeking of sulphur dioxide, like most of the British countryside, Crystal used the magnification on her goggles to survey where she'd placed her charges.
Worryingly, some traffic had picked up around the dock complex - Only light, but it was still early hours - It could pick up later.
Crystal scanned left, and activated thermographic vision.
A huge hulk of a freighter purred into the harbour on it's electro-magnetic induction drive, black-cold waves lapping against it's slightly warmer hull, sapping the engine heat.
"If Cy had made it earlier, we could have tried dropping onto the ship from his Tilt-Wing."
Chance nodded, and replied:
"We could have, but we don't know what to expect on there. We don't know what to expect here, either, but at least on dry ground we have a chance of escaping if it all goes tits-up. But if this traffic picks up... Can we still detonate the mines?"
Crystal's reply was cut off.
Speaking of traffic, something huge hove into view.
It was segmented, over 150 feet long. At the front and back were two huge engine blocks, on eight massive-tyred wheels each.
The centre sections had smaller wheels, but more. They were cargo sections, bulky enough to carry the heaviest of armoured vehicles under cover.
The road train.
The fragger's early.
The whole thing was painted a dappled sandy beige with darker brown spots - A semi-military colour scheme IWS seemed to like.
If that wasn't indication enough, it bore a huge IWS on the side of every one of its five carriages in black lettering.
Three carriages were armed - Enclosed turrets on the fore and aft engines, which looked to be carrying 30mm cannons, and a turret-mounted 8-shot missile pod on the centre carriage.
Each carriage also had an open hatch, where an armoured IWS guard sat at a pintle-mount GPMG.
The monster snaked its way around decaying port buildings, drawing inexorably closer to the docking ship. As it moved, a wheeled APC with a turret-mount GPMG and two Land Rover 2046's - all in the same IWS colour scheme - played outrider, the APC and one LandRover in front, the other as rearguard.
"Right. Prepare the detonator. I'm going to pick off-" Chance began, rising and readying his rifle. Crystal pulled him back down into cover behind the hill with a rough motion.
"What are you-"
The words were drowned out by the steady thuttering sound of a helicopter.
Cylinder Head here already? No, too much to ask for...
From the low cloud cover in the lightening sky, Crystal picked out the running lights and warm hull of an armed helicopter. Not an attack helicopter, just an armed IWS Kommando...
"Frag. Let them go, Chance. let them pass us. We don't stand a hope, not without back-up. We should let them get to the ship and load up, and try and get them on the way back..."
I should never have taken this 'run. Not without more info, not without more 'runners. Where was everyone?
"Dammit... I think you're right. Three of us going up against such heavy firepower's is going to be a suicide mission." Chance eyed the helicopter buzzing past overhead. All three of them had prepared hides in the bushes... even thermographic goggles would not spot them through the overhead cover afforded by the foilage.
"Since we can't take on the group alone and there's a fragging helicopter overhead, let's do the next best thing." Chance said as he lowered his rifle.
"We observe." The recon soldier replied as he pulled his night-vision goggles from his belt order and fitted on a telescopic sight to one eye. Leaning forward comfortably, both Chance and Crystal scanned the ship and train with their vision gear. Ash guarded the rear, reliable as always... one of the main disadvantages of using telescopic gear was the reduced field of vision the user had to contend with. That was why snipers always had an observer with standard binoculars to spot for them.
Chance began to speak quietly again, working out another plan as they began to realise that their original plan was effectively scrap.
"The explosive charges are designed to be easy to dismantle. We'll do that immediately after that damned helicopter passes. Just pull the ice-cream containers from their det-cord plugs and grab the handphone detonators. Easy as pie... the remaining buried detcord is cheap... just leave it behind. We'll leave a vidphone message for Cy. If or when he finally makes his way to us, he will still be able to track down road-rail train via Crash... Such a huge thing is bound to cause traffic congestion, meaning a whole slew of delayed traffic warnings appearing on the Matrix. That would give the approximate position of it."
Ash noticed the "he" that Chance used when referring to Cy. Without turning around from her constant scans of the surroundings, the redhead whispered back.
"A close-in job, Chance?"
"Yeah. We do it the quiet way." Chance removed the telescopic attachment from his night-vision goggles back into his belt order, having marked out the locations of guards and their visual views. He pulled his silenced pistol from his holster, handed it to Crystal and motioned to Ash to come closer.
"Guys, the main advantage those guys have are the mounted guns... 30mm's, missile launchers, pintel-mounted GPMG's, APC's, land rovers and that damned helicopter. We're going to get onto the train... We do that, all that heavy firepower's useless. Besides, the time now is 3.45 am. This is when the sky is lightening, but the light isn't strong enough to light up the earth. That means that any unaided eyes would have a hard time adjusting from bright sky to dark ground. Perfect time for close-in infiltration. My rifle is silenced, so is the pistol I handed to Crystal. And Ash here can make quick silent work of anyone in hand-to-hand range. We'll just have the scent of burnt flesh to worry about."
"They'll have the same problem adjusting to cool morning sky to warm ground with all that sulphur dioxide around, and from a moving vehicle. That 150 foot long train is going to have major problems getting around on this lousy road... it'll have to slow down during the exit from the Port if traffic picks up. We stay tucked into the foilage, quiet and still, we'll get onto the train easy."
The IWS loaders were efficient. Within fifteen minutes, the train was beginning its slow journey out of Ellesmere Port. It would soon speed up when it reached the wider highways south of Merseysprawl. But for the moment, it was moving at a slow crawl.
The APC leading the convoy was rather worrisome, but Chance had predicted correctly the effects on human eyes and thermographics... the high contrast between sky and land was enough to give headaches to anyone who constantly switched focus... the three of them hiding beside the road remained unnoticed.
The more elaborate night-vision and infrared gear on the train turrets was another matter, as was the IR devices on the IWS Kommando. Angles saved the trio from detection against the train's sensors... the top mounted weapons could not detect people hiding almost next to the train itself. Meanwhile, the growing traffic helped mask the heat signatures of the humans against the helicopter... the road glowed from the constant movement of traffic and helped blend the humans IR images into the train's bigger heat splotch.
Stepping aboard was ridiculously easy... Like typical trains, the segmented carriages had stepladders and hand-holds at the end of each segment. All three runners soon stood on the end of the last carriage... They had decided to remove anyone in the rear carriage first to facilitate access to the train's computers. Hitting the rear of the train first also meant that any enemy troops blundering into them would come from one direction--the front.
Chance readied his assault rifle, securely slung under his right arm. Crystal did the same with the silenced pistol, while Ash prepped herself for moving in immediately after their silent assault... her job was to finish off any downed survivors with a hand clasped over the throat.
Nothing silenced anyone faster than getting their vocal cords and spine burnt in half.
Fardel North ran his shrunken eyes up and down the two rows of 'slaves', and alighted on Silvia.
Raven shivered. She was a weak link - she was an abnormality that could ruin thier whole ruse if it was found out she was not elven.
"What is that?. She is not a elf, and she stinks of dragon...."
Silvia thought fast, and replied.
Shadow found it easy to follow Chance and Crystal once he dismounted the train - He knew where they were headed, after all.
He watched them, now, from a distance.
The IWS convoy was just snaking out from the port complex, carrying its high-tech cargo. The APC and one Land Rover came first, picking up speed, but staying close to the road-train.
The road train - Frag, what a monster - seemed to have picked up a couple of hitchikers...
Three tiny figures scrambled up the side of the rear end carriage/engine, staying low crouched behind one of the 30mm turrets for cover against the rear Land Rover, shielded from the rest of the road train by the middle cargo compartment section, with it's missile battery.
The road train pulled out onto the main road - Cars and smaller lorries moved aside to let it past, but there were more cars on the road now than there had been before...
Redwing pulled over on his stole Yamaha rapier bike. He still wore only his sleeveless combat top - The miserbale cold wather of the British Isles troubled him not a bit.
He'd had little trouble following Chance and Crystal to the train. Once he'd followed them off - Noticing the blue-eyed guy from the club, he'd 'borrowed' the bike from the train station using his prized knife for some electronic surgey on the credstick slot.
And now he could see the three figures, and the road train.
"Heh. I like a challenge early in the morning."
He had his rifle unbound in seconds, and slung across his back. Disdainingly tossing the bike helmet aside, he applied some throttle and roared down the motorway to the convoy, dodging several electricars...
"Ready?" Chance whispered.
Crystal nodded. her hair whipped into her face - The train was picking up speed all the time. She flicked the pin off the object in her hand -
Chance ripped open the roof access hatch.
"What in hell's name - " An asian Elf looked up.
He was stitched by three APDU rounds. Spouting blood, he sun to the metal floor of the rear interior engine carriage.
Crystal dropped in her grenade, and Chance didn't hesitate to slam the hatch behind her.
The explosion was muffled by the armoured train body.
Chance opened the hatch again, jumping down - The Elf was now certainly dead - One ork and one human, both in IWS medium security armour were down and screaming. Before Chance lay the engine controls - And two unarmoured engineers, one staring in disbelief at a jagged shrapnel wound, with blood pouring from his ears.
Behind the controls was a door leading to the next carriage, cargo module1, behind a maglock security door.
Chance whirled - The turret installation! - The operator - wearing uniform, a beret and an armour best, stared dumbly, fumbling for his sidearm, up in his turret-chair...
On the roof, Crystal waited for Ash to descend after Chance, when a shout distracted her.
It was the rear Land Rover - An Ork was standing out of the roof, setting up an IWS light machinegun - A heavy barrelled assault rifle with a bipod, really.
She had one chance: An aerofoil grenade virtually leapt off her belt. She primed it and let fly:
It smacked off the Land Rover's windscreen, deflecting slightly before exploding - It cracked the Rover's mirrored canopy badly. Shrapnel tore into the Ork gunner, seriously woundin him despite his armour. The ligth machine clattered to the rushin tarmac, shattering it's casing and being run over byn electricar nearby, swerving in panic.
Cylinder Head's Aerobus was inbound, closing fast. ETA 3 minutes. He sent a vidphone message to Crystal.
Illidia waited in the back, next to the GPMG, cradling one of Dragon's precious Blazer pistols. She wore Cylinder Head's armour jacket.
Badjimmy hadn't told anyone how much he resented being made to act the slave.
This was only because he was incapable.
Mary and Raven began to regret not keeping the injured detective away from the booze.
The Elf, looking the part perfectly in his filthy green trenchcoat suddenly screamed at the top of his voice.
"AAHHH!!! ZUT-A-FRAGGING-LORS, THIS HURTS!!"
He clutched his hand , holding the red-soaked stump up in front of his cyber-eyed face.
Fardel stared, then laughed out loud.
"HA, Is it Dragon or dis drunk foolz Dragon breath? What you tryin' to pull, Raven? Wat yoo think Ineed drunk for?"
Ash had immediately dived into the hatch upon hearing Crystal's shout of alarm, rapidly followed by the demowoman. Even as the Land Rover behind them crashed and burned, both of them went tumbling through the roof-entrance to wind up sprawling on the carriage floor... it wasn't the time for dignity, not with an enemy helicopter and APC somewhere out there.
With a extended leg, Crystal kicked out and connected with the closing switch for the roof hatch, which clanged close with a resounding thump. Both women distangled themselves... there were still hostiles in the carriage to deal with.
The turret-gunner continued to fumble for his sidearm.
Bad move, pal.
Chance's four round burst of APDU stitched the harnessed gunner under his armoured vest at point-blank range. The man jerked and slumped, blood and mushed tissue spewing from his wrecked abdomen, the guard shaking like a possessed person as he rapidly went into terminal shock.
As expected, the Orc guard recovered first and attempted to get up... His effort earned him two spine-severing DU-tips in the neck and a third round that half-embedded itself in his bony skull. Chance turned and pumped one round each into both the stunned human guard's hands... unless the guard could fire a rifle with his toes, he was effectively incapacitated. Chance still needed the man alive for the mag-lock's security code.
That's it for the armed personnel in this carriage.
Not quite... One of the engineers, the wounded and more senior-looking one, staggered over to an alarm panel, an arm extended in an attempt to smack at it. Chance's next shot struck him in the head, blowing out his brains in a pink spray over his stricken assistant, the latter going rigid with shock.
The alarm remained unsounded... but with a burning Land Rover on the road and a dead turret-gunner strapped unmoving in his seat, it won't be long until someone in charge of the IWS train figured that he was under attack. Time to move fast...
The remaining engineer was petrified with fear... It was of no use to shout at him to desist, so Chance's first action was to butt-smash him across the face, knocking the man unconscious. Pulling the pin from one of the concussion grenades Crystal had lent him, the soldier booby-trapped the prone man by pressing the grenade spoon down with the engineer's body... any attempt to move the man (either by the engineer himself or enemy reinforcements) would end up receiving a concussion blast in a confined space... rendering him or any helpful bad guys unconscious... again.
"Engineer's rigged!" Chance called out to Ash and Crystal... It won't do to score another DocWagon-style blue-on-blue friendly fire incident again... Meanwhile, another DU-tipped round put paid to the cables leading to the alarm panel, knocking it out of commission.
Moving forward along the ten meter long compartment, Chance yanked the wounded soldier across to the control panel for the mag-lock security door where Ash and Crystal awaited. The man was in no shape to resist... with two broken hands, and all his other fellow guards dead, he saw no point in further resistance.
"234765" He whimpered.
Chance shoved the wounded man over to Ash. The woman gave the guard a brilliant grin, then cooly smacked him across the head with the hefty flamethrower, letting the unconscious man topple at the feet of Crystal... who promptly rigged him with practised speed... All in a day's work.
"Ready?" Her gloved fingers hovering over the panel, Ash asked as her teammates prepped themselves, Ash having acquired an unsilenced SMG from the dead guards... she would only fire if surprise was lost... Chance and Crystal would lead the way in.
Suddenly, loud, unsuppressed gunfire erupted outside the train...
Redwing had ridden his bike right up to the front of the road-rail, messing around with the efforts of the front Land Rover as it tried to slow down and ease back towards the rear of the train. The elf assistant driver leaned out, screaming obscenities at the amerindian as the grinning Redwing blocked their every move, playing a game with the enraged wimp as civilian cars swerved and skidded all around them.
Losing his temper, the driver shrilled for the roof gunner to take out Redwing, reaching for an SMG himself.
Oh no you don't...
Redwing roared up to the left side of the driver's compartment... and at an arm's length from the shocked assistant driver, with his assault rifle resting sideways across his handlebars, let rip with a long burst.
The elf jerked around... much of his aristocratic (in Redwing's mind... wimpy) face disintegrating in the burst of lead. Beside the dead elf, the human driver's eyes bulged, not from surprise but from the internal overpressure of a bullet transversing his head from temple to temple. Redwing barely whipped his bike clear as the Land Rover went wildly out of control, colliding with a civilian car on the right and turning turtle, the orc roof gunner decapitated messily by extreme road rash.
Redwing roared a victory cry... then realised that the APC in front was tranversing its turret in a slow swing towards the rear, an extremely pissed IWS gunner at the controls.
Uh-oh Redwing thought... then grinned as he went after his second scalping of the day.
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