[headquarters]

Only a few weeks away now guys .
sharpen the pencils..grease up the dice..put those beers into deep refrigeration..

SOMEWHERE NORTH OF KETTLEMAN CITY JUST EAST OF HIGHWAY 5....


Date : 20.10.19 Time : 1325hrs Temperature : +1 C*

The constant shivers from the penetrating chill that had settled in their backbone made conversation difficult and staggered.Sitting down for hours on end in this temperature had let the cold get a firm grip on each of them .They were sitting in the dilapidated basement of the abandoned farnmhouse. The wood creaked and moaned in the gusts of wind .Atleast they were sheltered from that .

Lt.Benito Tecumseh Pain was keeping watch.He paced up and down the room from window to window and shuddered every time he got close to one of them.There panes were all shattered or cracked.The draft was unpleasant.

Outside the wind had indeed picked up ,and it brought with it an unwelcome chill .Gusts of cold air that was sharp and nippy to the skin .

Suddenly he froze deadly still -his pacing suspended .In the basemement the shivering bundles of rags and tarps and tattered clothing all suddenly seized their rustle and coughs and sneezes.

Inbetween the gusts of wind that howled around the corners they had all heard it at the same time. A sound all to familiar .Faint and far away but clear and distinct .

The rythmic clap of a helicopter doing a slow pass.

The young doctor looked from man to man in the basement -his face filled with a wild hope -the chopper might be one of their own!
Seeing the tense faces around him made his hope flutter and go out .

All of them held their breath for what seemed like ages and turned their heads futively upwards as the distant sound grew fainter still and then disappeared .

Only then did they exhale -almost as one man ,and a few rustles from someone gathering his rags around him to try to keep some heat in.The worry seemed to linger a few seconds before dissapating slowly.

The steady pacing upstairs in the living room resumed.

Someone coughed in the basement ,and spat into the heap of bloody bandages in the corner. One by one they met eachothers eyes as for to say "phew!close one " - but both looking quizzingly into the others gaze to find some spark of optimism in it .And both realizing that none was to be found dropped their gaze at the same time.

After a little while Ironman cleared a soar throat and said :"I believe my rider definently specified a roaring fire and two pounds of marshmelows with spits for this one" .

His face looked so disappointed that the others had to crack a smile over the statement ."Grease" even managed a little chuckle.

Suddenly everybody froze again.All quiet in suspense.

The pulsating sound of rotorblades grew steadily closer.

The helicopter was coming back.