|
Post by spartacus on Jun 9, 2012 6:19:39 GMT -5
Radek awoke slowly, groaning as the dreams remained vivid in his head. He felt the pressure on his temples clear bit-by-bit as stared up towards the slowly scrolling ceiling like the backdrop of an old movie set chase scene. He lay there, eyes open only slightly for a while as he was entranced by what he had experienced. He knew exactly what he needed to find, and it was right underneath the Kremlin! But he had remembered the stories. 'Never look directly at it!' they had said. 'You will die!' they said. So how was he to reach his goal?
Eventually Radek sat up, moaning with pain as bruises he didnt have before coursed a dull throbbing through his body. He lifted his head to find a snarling Curtis pointing a gun directly to his forehead, shaking with anger as he finger furiously pressed the clicking trigger. Radek stared back, eyes wide as he glanced about in a slight panic. Then he realised no one was stopping Curtis; in fact, many of them seemed itching to be in his position.
Slowly, he shifted his gaze back to Curtis, shakily asking... "What do you think you're doing?"
|
|
|
Post by Lawnmower Joe on Jun 11, 2012 4:45:15 GMT -5
"What do you think you're doing?", exclaimed a groggy male voice behind her. Balalaika, sweat glistening on her pale face and eyes wide and glassy with sick fear, turned around to see what was going on. One man was pressing the barrel of his pistol against the forehead of another man, pulling the trigger with furious but futile energy as the weapon clicked away emptily.
"What the fuck are you two fucking doing?", snapped Balalaika, the words leaving her lips without the consent of her brain. Her hands and arms kept on pumping at the lever, propelling the cart onward. As she spoke, the cart was swallowed up in the thick but strangely comforting blackness of the tunnel. Had they escaped Nagornaya? She had no idea.
"Put that gun down", she snapped again, her voice hoarse but commanding. "We don't need a fucking shoot-out after escaping from God knows what was lurking in that accursed station!"
|
|
|
Post by quandry on Jun 13, 2012 1:23:29 GMT -5
Curtis snapped back into reality, holding his head when more voices appeared. Suddenly the world was drowned in blackness. He could feel himself suffocating, as if the dark was the absence of everything itself. After rubbing his face, he shot out an exhale and began breathing again, "Ugh. . .Motherfucker. . ."
They were moving fast, which was a good thing. But the rapid motion caught up to him. He spasmed out for a second, and he could feel his left leg twitching uncontrollably; grabbing at it with both hands he wrangled it back to the seat, accidently unbuckling a pouch on his pocket full of thick, military grade bullets. They flickered everywhere, spilling onto the floor-- but he didn't care about that, not now.
The pangs of the bullets reverberated, and it reminded him why he came. . .He needed to get everything he could back to the surface. So, after breathing a bit, he tried pulling his mind back together. . .so as long as his body would cooperate. "Why not?" He stifled a laugh, still in some kind of pain, "They might be too scared to confront us in the first place if we keep this up. . ."
|
|
|
Post by spartacus on Jun 13, 2012 4:56:17 GMT -5
Radek, blinked, looking around for as Curtis moved off. He still wasn't sure what had happened, but he didnt have time to act now as darkness began to circle around them. He shot up toward the crank and began pumping it furiously, grunting loudly as he did so.
"We have...UGH....to get out of here!" he yelled as he kept on the crank, wincing as the cart pushed agasinst the darkness intolerably.
"We can't be that far from the station, surely?"
|
|
|
Post by The Karcolith on Jun 14, 2012 10:22:34 GMT -5
"We aren't," Oleg muttered, "You've got some explaining to do when we stop too." He added, with a glare before turning back and focusing on the crank.
Looking to Balalaika after a few quiet moments, he asked in a quiet voice.
"What do you know about D-6? I've heard it's an old bunker for the government, also that they still reside there, plotting for when we return to the surface, a load of rubbish if you ask me.
"We shouldn't be seen fighting by a hidden enemy, if we are being watched that is, it would make us easier pickings, or more pron to pick one another off." Oleg replied to Curtis' remark, his eyes dancing over what was left of the convoy.
"Besides, whatever presence lurks around that station wouldn't need to fire a shot if it really wanted to kill you." Oleg added, he had never felt the presence that many of the "haunted" stations apparently had. It clearly wasn't from his time in the Reich, otherwise Radek would have been equally unaffected. It was something he never really understood about himself.
"Keep an eye out for any of the people that ran off, we might run them over by accident." He warned before turning all his attention back to the crank.
|
|
|
Post by Lawnmower Joe on Jun 19, 2012 4:40:04 GMT -5
"D6?", said Balalaika, "D6? I don't think I've ever heard much about it...I know some people who talked about Metro 2, but otherwise, nothing, zilch, absolute fuck all."
She continued pumping on the crank, making the heavy railway cart speed further away from Nagornaya. Soon they'd reach Sevastopolskaya's guard post and safety. Soon.
"As for the people who ran off, I don't think they would have made it past here", she said grimly.
|
|
|
Post by spartacus on Jun 19, 2012 9:42:30 GMT -5
Radek gulped, glancing about as he struggled to remember anything he'd said or done that needed explaining. For the life of him, he couldn't remember a thing. All he remembered was screaming, manning the crank and collapsing unconscious where he dreamt about- "D6?" said the woman, Radek's neck immediately shooting up to face her.
"D-6"...Radek muttered, looking to the floor. He needed allies to help him find it, but he could not tell them the truth, surely? "I have...heard much about D-6. They say every faction in the Metro seeks it's riches...but only one has any real chance of finding it without pulling of a metro-scale war again." he said, looking up to Oleg and Balalaika, trying to guage their reactions.
|
|
|
Post by Lawnmower Joe on Jun 19, 2012 11:20:24 GMT -5
Balalaika turned her head and eyed the man suspiciously. In her previous years she'd been a full-time membre of the Red Line's secret police, hunting down suspected traitors, saboteurs and defeatists. Something about this man made her old suspicion rear its ugly head.
"And where did you hear all that stuff?", she asked, narrowing her eyes, "and what would this 'one' you speak of be?"
|
|
|
Post by spartacus on Jun 20, 2012 5:40:54 GMT -5
Radek cocked his head slightly, licking his lips as he brushed his hair back, rubbing his cheek as he mulled over his answer. "I....am an explorer. I trade stories along every route, D-6 is a story that often comes up. According to most of the information, it's...close to the Reich. If the Reds want it, they'd kick off a whole new war. Same for the Hansa, they'd try to wipe out the Reich in order to secure the place while the search. Anyone else who has even a semblance of power to get there would have to fight through all three of those-er...tunnel nations."
Radek sniffed, hoping his story would seem neutral enough. He fingered the barrel of his gun as casually as he hoped he could. Had he said something about the Reich in his coma?
|
|
|
Post by The Karcolith on Jun 25, 2012 2:59:19 GMT -5
"A metro without the Reich seems like a good thing if you ask me." Oleg muttered, not disguising his dislike of the Fascists.
"What riches do you speak of? Conventional money is no good, something that can help us reclaim the surface, that is what we need." He said, turning and looking into the tunnel ahead he could see a glimmer of light reflected off the walls.
About time. He thought, with a sigh of relief he felt about 10 years younger suddenly after the grueling trek through Nagornaya.
After a couple of minutes the guard post came into view.
"I'm glad that's over." He said, allowing the cart to slowdown, before applying the brakes slowing it more, creeping to where the guards were standing.
|
|
|
Post by Lawnmower Joe on Jun 25, 2012 7:51:18 GMT -5
"I'd rather have a metro without Nazi scum", said Balalaika, eyeing Radek suspiciously. "And I don't believe D6 exists...it seems too good to be true, and even if it was true how would it be good for us?"
The gleam of a light in the tunnel ahead became visible, and Balalaika felt relief wash over her once more. The distant, echoing chatter of men was also heard over the railcar's creaking and rumbling.
"Thank God we made it", she said, wiping sweat from her brow and matted black hair. As the cart came to a stop in front of the Sevastopolskayan guardpost, a strong light was shone over the passengers of the vehicle while a deep, scratchy voice barked:
"You from the Ring Line? Show us your passports!"
Shit, thought Balalaika, hesitantly fumbling for her passport. The document was a scruffy little booklet with pages added to it and stamps from various stations, but what made her nervous was the fact that it was an old Red Line passport. The hammer and sickle were clearly visible on the front cover of the booklet. But why did Balalaika not have a Hansa passport? Back in the days she'd started working for the Hansa, there had been a shortage of materials for the creation of new passports, so her old Red Line passport had been "modified" to serve as a Hansa identity document.
As the guard passed around the cart, checking the passports out, Balalaika reluctantly handed hers over to him, trying hard to conceal the hammer and sickle from her fellow passengers. Her ruse, however, was quickly foiled.
"This here is a Red Line passport", said the guard, eyeing Balalaika suspiciously, "but it also says that you're a Hansa citizen. Why?"
"It's rather complicated to explain", said the short woman, quickly making up an explanation, "Y'see, when I went to live and work on the Ring Line, they didn't have enough Hansa passports going around, so they used an old Soviet one..."
"Right", said the guard before handing it back to her and passing on to the next passenger. Balalaika heaved a silent sigh of relief.
|
|
|
Post by quandry on Jun 26, 2012 3:27:16 GMT -5
Curtis sat back in his chair, leaning, expressing the lazy bastard he was. The tunnel was growing to a close. He pulled out military grade bullets and loaded them into his revolver. "Fuck Nazi's." he briefly stated to the group. Before they arrived, he blurted out a phrase, "If you're looking for something to change the surface, I've got the equipment on the surface-- Here take a look. Just imagine, thousands of these--"
He pulled out a few 12.7x108mm bullets, juggling them around in his hand, "And guess where they came from? Oh ho ho. . .You'll have to come to the surface with me. I came here looking for people to help me. My luck sort of blew up-- Oh. . .I mean, my luck sort of ran out, though. You wouldn't be up for the job, would you?" He seemed to address the group in general, "My plan could certaintly get you to D6, if you have an idea where it is. . .I don't believe it exists, but who knows?"
The cart slowly waned to a halt. A beam of light was shoved into his face, and he was asked for his passport. He went around, first collecting Balalaika and exposing the passports origin to the rest of the group. Curtis smirked; not a fan of the radicals, he guessed.
His turn came next, and Curtis showed the slip of paper. "Huh. . .You're not getting off here, are you? Please tell me you're not getting off here. . ."
"Sevestapol? Why wouldn't you want me here. . .I'll just take a nice look at your selection of women and--"
"This isn't a joke. Did you read this?" The guard cocked his gun and stood up straight, much more intimidating now, "You're lucky I don't just shoot you." The guard shoved the paper into his back pocket, now pointing his gun at the group, as if they might suddenly pop out and attack, "Next-- how about you?"
|
|
|
Post by spartacus on Jun 26, 2012 8:25:55 GMT -5
Radek mumbled under his breath for a moment before replying to Oleg. "It's supposed to be whatever you wish...but that's likely adventurers nonsense. What I hear, is that there's enough ammo and supplies to feed and protect the entire Metro." Radek spouted with a grin, adding in his head, 'Or to conquer it...'.
He only gave Balalaika a glance, grunting and nodding in reply, noticing the atmosphere seeming to have calmed now. But Curtis' offer intrigued him. Not the bullets, but it provided the perfect oppertunity to arrive at D-6. He looked around for a moment before nodding once to him. "Da. Allright." he said bluntly, eyeing Radek's reaction carefully. Then the light from the station flashed into his face and he covered his eyes for a moment as the guard approached. Radek fumbled in his pockets for his forged Hansa passport, pulling it out just as the guard finished with Curtis and approached. He handed it forward, keeping one hand on the hilt of his pistol as he stood leaning on the crank.
The guard did a double-take from the passport to Radek's face. Never a good sign. Radek gripped the pistol tightly, breathing deeply as he stared to the man. The guard shook his head, looking up as he spoke, "This is a fa-" A bang echoed through the tunnel as Radek let off a shot toward the guard's chest, cutting him short before leaping over the rail on his side and charging back along the tunnel, the guards calling out, cocking their guns to shoot. A side passage nearby remained open and foolishly, without thinking, he ran in. It was a pitch black and he had no idea how to get through, but with his identity suspected on the caravan and a fake passport at the station, he had no chance if he stayed there.
|
|
|
Post by The Karcolith on Jun 28, 2012 7:01:00 GMT -5
"The metro doesn't need more ammunition to kill one another with, medical supplies would be more useful, though anything that's laid idle for such a long time would be unlikely to actually work properly." Oleg commented, digging into his coat pocket and digging out his battered passport .
Before Oleg could show his passport however Radek's passport was suspected of being fake, but before anyone could react he'd already shot the guard and legged it, pulling the revolver from his holster he lined up a shot but the man had disappeared into the darkness. Sighing in annoyance he flashed his passport, the guards were extra jumpy already several were preparing to give chase to Radek. The remaining occupants on the caravan however were unable to get off the cart as the guards had their guns trained on them.
"So I guess were not getting paid any time soon, huh?" Oleg said quietly, almost sarcastically. The prospect of being shot by these guards was looming but every moment they delayed gave him hope that they would survive. "If it helps, most of us got on the cart earlier."
Reaching into his coats inner pocket he fished out an old, battered tin of cigarettes picking one out he offered the tin to his comrades on the cart, the cigarettes were old and had tobacco in in them rather than a dried mushroom, ground up and rolled. The guards were still eying them, possibly waiting for someone in charge to come and take over the situation. Striking his lighter several times it finally lit igniting the cigarette.
Taking a long draw he blew the smoke out and looked to the guard closest, "What's the hold up?" He asked.
|
|
|
Post by Lawnmower Joe on Jun 29, 2012 13:48:06 GMT -5
"Oh pissing Christ in a fuckbarrel", breathed Balalaika as Radek ran off, leaving a dead guard and an infuriated patrol in his wake. She could already sense trouble brewing for the caravan. Surely the guards would arrest them all in case the caravan harboured more hostile passengers...
Balalaika's fears were quickly confirmed when a guard shoved the barrel of his old revolver in her face, his expression indecipherable behind the heavy facemask he was wearing.
"All right, devochka, you're under arrest on suspicion of being a Communist spy and saboteur! Hand over your weapons and follow us. If you resist, you will be shot."
"Oh c'mon! I'm innocent!", pleaded Balalaika, but it was clear that her plea was falling on deaf ears. Not wanting to start a fight, she handed over her AK and her Helsing as well as her other weapons. Her bayonet, though, remained hidden in her baggy coat.
"I'm about as Marxist as Maxim Maximovich Timonov", she said before roughly being shoved off the cart, "I believe in free enterprise and the free market!"
"Shut up, woman."
And so Balalaika was lead away from the cart, a revolver pressed in the small of her back. It wasn't the first time that she'd be paying a visit to the clink, but the Sevastopolskayans would not be as easy to convince than other factions...
|
|