Post by tylatz on Oct 26, 2009 21:10:55 GMT -5
(ooc: sans formatting, dick)
Des holstered his pistol and moved back to the fallen marine at which Sergei met him. They shared a smile over Omar's kill that was left behind by their large comrade. They couldn't leave the body behind and they certainly couldn't pass up the opportunity in front of them. Between them they drug the body a short distance into the undergrowth where the concealment completely obfuscated them from the watchtowers sight. Sergei took the large rifle from Des while he, in turn, lifted the corpse onto his shoulders with a grunt.
“Fuck, this bastard is heavy,” Des griped while adjusting the dead weight to better balance himself.
Sergei continued to eye the area from which they'd just come, “go ahead. I'll cover the tracks.” He was always a pragmatic man with an excellent eye for detail and he had a point. Little could be done on Des' part to hide the deep impressions and disturbed plants while carrying the Zeon soldier through the jungle.
Des began to nod, but Sergei was already busy mending what he could. It was reassuring to Des that his former hunting partner was going along with his crazy dream of an African Union. Why would a grounded man ever agree to such a thing was completely beyond him, but he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Sergei's presence had been exceedingly beneficial in training the younger guys with sparkles of patriotism, or sectionalism, in their eyes which lasted up until he smashed their faces into the mud and proceeded to break them in; not to mention the many connections to Northern Asia he possessed. There were few as valuable in the operations as Sergei.
Drenched in sweat and exhausted, Des stumbled into the small camp dropping his burden behind him. At Omar's signal Jack and Gill carried the corpse off to dispose of the body in proper fashion. There was something odd about Omar that Des could never really explain, but there wasn't much to go on to begin with. He was a dark skinned man built like a mountain that rarely spoke, even then he only gave a slight nod in response to the stammering thanks Des managed between breaths, and Omar always seemed three steps ahead of his counterparts. That is pretty much all anyone knew about him. Some of the men had their doubts about Omar and his intentions which were quickly crushed by Des with a bit of creative persuasion.
“I was starting to worry about you,” Jess Vine spoke up as he approached Des. “The men are ready. Their spirits are pretty high too.” He ran a hand through his blonde hair and peered over his shoulder at the men priming their weapons in anticipation. This man was the logistic brains that knew the seedy diplomatic world better than Des knew the Kalahari. If they needed something then Jess could get it no matter how absurd it might have been as long as Des could meet the price point that was bargained on. That wasn't his only function, Mr. Vine was the official spokesman for the African Union and acted as the front man. It seemed like a shitty job to Des so he was more than happy to let Jess take over that side of things.
“Is that my new toy?” Des asked gesturing to a tube in Jess' other hand.
A smug smile spread across Jess' lips. “Just like you ordered,” he commented, handing the tube over for inspection.
The device was roughly a foot long, capped in the ends with a clear plastic sleeve covering the entire tube. Inside was a red dust not too different than that of the Kalahari or even Mars and through this ran a silver strand. On one end of the device was a small button protected by a hinged plastic cover that had to be flipped up before it could be pressed.
“It's five seconds?”
“Give or take.”
“Nice,” Des smiled, today was a good day.
Des holstered his pistol and moved back to the fallen marine at which Sergei met him. They shared a smile over Omar's kill that was left behind by their large comrade. They couldn't leave the body behind and they certainly couldn't pass up the opportunity in front of them. Between them they drug the body a short distance into the undergrowth where the concealment completely obfuscated them from the watchtowers sight. Sergei took the large rifle from Des while he, in turn, lifted the corpse onto his shoulders with a grunt.
“Fuck, this bastard is heavy,” Des griped while adjusting the dead weight to better balance himself.
Sergei continued to eye the area from which they'd just come, “go ahead. I'll cover the tracks.” He was always a pragmatic man with an excellent eye for detail and he had a point. Little could be done on Des' part to hide the deep impressions and disturbed plants while carrying the Zeon soldier through the jungle.
Des began to nod, but Sergei was already busy mending what he could. It was reassuring to Des that his former hunting partner was going along with his crazy dream of an African Union. Why would a grounded man ever agree to such a thing was completely beyond him, but he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Sergei's presence had been exceedingly beneficial in training the younger guys with sparkles of patriotism, or sectionalism, in their eyes which lasted up until he smashed their faces into the mud and proceeded to break them in; not to mention the many connections to Northern Asia he possessed. There were few as valuable in the operations as Sergei.
Drenched in sweat and exhausted, Des stumbled into the small camp dropping his burden behind him. At Omar's signal Jack and Gill carried the corpse off to dispose of the body in proper fashion. There was something odd about Omar that Des could never really explain, but there wasn't much to go on to begin with. He was a dark skinned man built like a mountain that rarely spoke, even then he only gave a slight nod in response to the stammering thanks Des managed between breaths, and Omar always seemed three steps ahead of his counterparts. That is pretty much all anyone knew about him. Some of the men had their doubts about Omar and his intentions which were quickly crushed by Des with a bit of creative persuasion.
“I was starting to worry about you,” Jess Vine spoke up as he approached Des. “The men are ready. Their spirits are pretty high too.” He ran a hand through his blonde hair and peered over his shoulder at the men priming their weapons in anticipation. This man was the logistic brains that knew the seedy diplomatic world better than Des knew the Kalahari. If they needed something then Jess could get it no matter how absurd it might have been as long as Des could meet the price point that was bargained on. That wasn't his only function, Mr. Vine was the official spokesman for the African Union and acted as the front man. It seemed like a shitty job to Des so he was more than happy to let Jess take over that side of things.
“Is that my new toy?” Des asked gesturing to a tube in Jess' other hand.
A smug smile spread across Jess' lips. “Just like you ordered,” he commented, handing the tube over for inspection.
The device was roughly a foot long, capped in the ends with a clear plastic sleeve covering the entire tube. Inside was a red dust not too different than that of the Kalahari or even Mars and through this ran a silver strand. On one end of the device was a small button protected by a hinged plastic cover that had to be flipped up before it could be pressed.
“It's five seconds?”
“Give or take.”
“Nice,” Des smiled, today was a good day.