[Raellus]

It’s hard to see much through the SKOT’s vision blocks, but it doesn’t look like it’s “snowed” here. From what Grease and Bird can observe without exiting the vehicle, the nearby settlement consists of an old brick church and less than a half-dozen other structures sitting astride a paved east-west road. There are no obvious indications of habitation.

Sarge and P.R. have both stopped vomiting, but nausea, dizziness, and weakness persist. Deacon does his best to treat them, but there’s not a lot he can do with the team’s scant medical supplies.

“Charcoal might help. If you can find or make some charcoal…” Deacon speculates.

“Gas masks and gloves,” Walker instructs the scout team (Bird, Honeybear, Sandy). “At least until we can get a look at the ground.” They exit via the SKOT’s rear doors which, being oriented vertically, are less likely to be retaining as many potentially radioactive dust particles as the horizontal roof hatches.

A close inspection of the earth and foliage in the vicinity of Pole Position suggests that this area didn’t receive a dusting of ash, so Walker authorizes everyone to remove their uncomfortable MOPP gear. Grease sets about rinsing Pole Position down with buckets of water from the nearby Prosna.

With Bird on point, Walker leads the scout team towards the hamlet. As they get closer, it becomes apparent that there’s been fighting here, although it looks to have taken place several months, if not years, earlier. There are several shell holes in the old stone church, including one that caved in most of its roof, exposing the interior to the elements.

Each of the settlement’s handful of buildings is given a cursory search; all appear to have been thoroughly looted. The only items of use that the scouts find are a fishing pole and a European football (i.e. soccer ball).

The scouts return to Pole Position with their meager haul of loot. Captain Walker spreads out the unit's map of the AO on the troop compartment floor. Her index finger traces the Prosna River south from Grabow, until it curls east just north of an east-to-west paved road. If Captain Walker is reading the map right, the hamlet they’ve just searched isn’t even on it.

“If we’re here, then we’re only about… 5 klicks south of Grabow, and Ivan. And I don’t like being so close to this paved road, especially when we know they’re looking for us.” She looks at Sarge, “You OK to travel?”

“Yes, ma’am,” McNulty grunts, failing to conceal his continuing discomfort.

Walker flashes a skeptical frown, but she doesn’t argue. “Question then is, where to next?”

Leaning over the 1:50,000 scale US Army map, Walker points out a highway running north-south intersecting their line of march on a westerly heading. If the Soviets are still trying to cut off escape for survivors of the 5th ID, that highway is probably patrolled aggressively. The woods the Diamond’s had been dipping in and out of for the past two days lie to the east.

“That leaves south,” Walker’s finger taps an irregular patch of dark green on the map. “This small forest is about 5 klicks from here. We could lay up there for a few hours, take a bit of breather.”

There are no objections. Grease drives the SKOT out of the thicket and turns east on to the road running through the hamlet. For the next half-an-hour or so, the Diamonds' driver follows a more or less southerly heading, using mostly unpaved country roads. The dark line of the forest is soon visible on the southern horizon. Pole Position rolls towards a small hamlet.

Up ahead, an old man- he must be at least 75- steps out from behind a stack of hay bales by the roadside and fires a single shot well over the approaching APC with what appears to be a bolt-action rifle.

A somewhat comedic standoff ensues- an elderly Polish David squaring up to an armored Goliath.

With Bird and Honeybear covering, Walker exits the vehicle; Deacon follows, helping P.R. to walk- the team’s translator is still weak and unsteady as a result of radiation poisoning. Introductions are made, and after a few minutes of back-and-forth, the Diamond envoys convince the old man that they are friendly.

Trembling with rage, the old man- Bartosz is his name- explains that marauders- Russian bandits is the term he uses- have been raiding small settlements in the district from their hideout in the forest to the south. There’re about 20 of them; they steal food, rape any females they can get their hands on, and kill anyone bold enough to resist. The nearest military garrison, 20km or so to the west in the town of Ostrzeszow, isn’t interested in doing anything about it, despite numerous entreaties. Bartosz has heard all this from survivors of nearby settlements, and he says that his village, Skarydzew, is almost certainly next on the bandit’s hit list. The old man claims to have fought the Russians back in 1939, and insists that he’s not afraid to do it again, even if he has to fight them all by himself. He promises the Diamonds all of the food and fuel they can carry if they help him repel the marauders.

Back at the SKOT, the team discusses the way forward.

“This isn’t our fight,” Sarge says half-heartedly, offering Walker a way out.

“You know Kurosawa? Seven Samurai?” P.R. asks. His question is met with shaking heads and blank stares.

“How about the Magnificent Seven? Steven McQueen, Charles Bronson, that bald dude from the King and I?” he tries again. This time, most of the team responds in the affirmative.

“They were the good guys, right?” Again, assent.

“And we’re good guys, aren’t we?” Agreement, but somewhat grudging. The others can see where he’s going with this and most of them have mixed feelings about it.

“Then this is our fight.”


NOTES: Can you guess what random encounter I drew for the day's second shift? Leading up to it, I used the Quick Search rules to scrounge the church/hamlet without spending a full shift there. The d10 roll came up 98, giving the party two more rolls on the Scrap Table. This resulted in a fishing pole and a remote control. Since the latter doesn't make sense for the setting, I rerolled and the result was a football (which I ruled as a soccer ball, again given the setting). Grease was successful on his driving rolls, and Walker's persuasion roll (Helped by P.R.) was very successful, so Bartosz was convinced to trust the Diamonds, and ask them for help.

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