"On foot?" Lifter says, looking around at all the equipment he just unloaded. "Okay," he grumbles a litle as he goes back to work stowing everything back in the MPUV. When he is done he outfits himself with his Ares, a MAW launcher and 2 rockets, and 100 rounds of XX for the LMG.

"Roger that". Bearclaw pulls a days worth of rations from his rucksack, shoves it into his "buttpack", throws on his LBE, and removes his Nav-Dat GPS, and starts entering coordinates.
"I can do it fine by eye, but if the tech is there it never hurts to be sure".
That done, he tapes the throat mike on, and asks, "OK, what freq and scrambler settings. I can key everyone's if we've got the gear. Unfortunately the lowest scrambler rating wins, so I hope everyone's got at least rating one."

Countdown's got no problem with the plan as it is, aside from his end of things, but that's his business to deal with. He just soaks in the conversation, noting that the Trog's got the vehicular end of the spectrum dealth with, which lightens his load. No need for LAWs then. He makes a mental inventory of what he'll need, and when they break he heads to his truck. He gets a static resistant case out, packing into it five kilos of plastique. He secures that in a rucksack, and then adds in four remote detonators and a timer. He field strips and checks over his Ares Alpha, re-builts it, and secures the sling onto it. He does a quick strip and check over his Savalette Guardian, and Ares Antioch as well. Weapons checked, he strips down, and gets into his camo suit. He secures two extra clips for the Alpha and the Guardian, loads up the Antioch with his standard White Phosphorus load, straps on his combat knife, and loads up the Alphas GL with Mini-Offensive grenades. A quick check of the smartsystems on his weapons, and he slides his goggles. The ruck already has a week's worth of rations loaded, a flare gun, his pocsec, and his electronics kit. All in all, he takes ten minutes and he's ready to roll.

J: As I head to the meeting place I stop by the barracks. I grab a small pack and put my survival gear in it. I then fold up the equipment I won't take and place it in my footlocker. I wrap my whip around my torso and pull on my camo jacket. I enter the coordinates of the ambush site, our camp, the villages, and our ambush site onto my GPS unit. I fold up the map, and put it, the GPS unit, my binoculars and pocket secretary in my pack. Thinking to myself, 'that's probably all I'll need,' I sling on my pack and head to the north end of camp.

When I get there I check the time and slip into the forest to summon a spirit. After summoning as force 6 forest spirit I say, "our group will require concealment as we travel, will you use your powers to aid us?"

I wait for everyone. When they arrive I say, "a forest spirit has offered to conceal us as we travel as long as we stay together."

I ask Bearclaw, "what frequency and encryption? I have level 2," as I pull out my micro-transceiver setup and put it on.

Lifter arrives a few minutes later ready to get moving. His pack looks small on his large frame. His gear looks very neatly organized from the LMG slung on his chest to the MAW secured to the side of his ruck. "Ready to move out. I've got an Ares Mac watchdog with a level six encryption module." One massive finger points to the black box on his LBE, a thin black wire runs from the unit to behind his ear into his concealed datajack. "I have it on a TD so no noise."

Trogdor gathers everything he will need for the trip, which isn't much. He makes sure that he has his revolver and all of his speedloaders and he makes sure that his axe is sharp. Grabbing his backpack, he fills it with rations and a few canteens full of water. Just before he leaves his tent he grabs a hip flask and puts it in a side pocket of his pants. The weight of the flask means that it is full of whiskey, just in case.

He joins the others by lifter's truck. Looking through the window, Trogdor admires the troll modifications. Hopefully he won't have his horns rubbing against the ceiling the whole time.

"We ready to go?" he asks the group.

As J waits by the NORTH end of camp with Lifter (edit: sorry lifter, I wasn't exactly sure where you were), she thinks to herself, 'wow it would be great if the rest of the people showed up. Its about 20 minutes past the deadline, maybe they are merely slow.'

I say, "I guess nobody wants to go..., let's give them 5 minutes and then do the mission by ourselves."

In the meantime we set our comms to the same frequency. Whether the rest of the team shows or not, we leave in five minutes and head into the forest. As we begin to travel, I tell my (force 6 forest) spirit to conceal us as we travel. I walk, and walk, and check to see if we are going the right direction, and keep walking, etc...

Bearclaw, who feels as though he's been waiting for days, says from the woods behind them "I've been waiting for you guys. I'll travel about 25 meters ahead, so if I trip a booby trap or spring an ambush, you guys will be able to pull me out. Try to keep at least 5 meters between the rest of you, but keep visual contact with the guy ahead of you." He looks at J "boss, I guess you'll be the one behind me. Try not to get too close. We'd all feel dumb if I spot something just in time for you to walk in range of it."
With that, he turns, sights along his GPS, picks a point on the horizon, unslings his AK-98, and heads into the bush. "Zulu 6, this is Zulu 1, commo check, over".

The hike is slow. Vines and trees are tangled in every way and almost seem to be trying to get in your way. The constant buzzing of small insects, both near and far, is interrupted by the occasional bird call.

The sun is high in the sky as Bearclaw first notices the well cleared dirt road between the trees.

Chestlerfield takes his position, hiding in the canopy and looking down on the road. Setting the proper frequency on the communicator, he hopes everyone is as late as he is.

Bugs! I hate all these hellish bugs!

To sooth his inner-self while waiting, he imagines a world free of bugs... Ah... that's it....

J: "Zulu 6 (me) to Zulu 3 (Douglas Chesterfield), are you in position?" Wait for response, then add "Let us know each vehicle that passes."

I speak to the team quickly, "Zulu 5 (Lifter), go ahead and set your weapons to cover the road. Zulu 2 (Countdown), when he has you covered set the explosives. Zulu 4 (Trogdor) and I will set up a couple hundred meters northeast, watch for unexpected traffic, and prep for the ambush. One, could you set up southeast opposite us and act as lookout from the other direction? Also, we shouldn't worry to much about critters, they probably won't attack till nightfall"

As we split up to our seperate tasks I mindlink to my spirit and say, "thanks for concealing us, just hang around, I might need you later."

Lifter nods at J's orders. He moves about fifty meters down and looks for a small hill or fallen tree he can setup behind. Once he finds what he's looking for he drops his ruck behind it. He takes his LMG and unfolds the bipods and sets it up so that he can easily cover the road. He loads a belt into it, and sets a spare belt beside it so that he can reload quickly. He then unpacks and loads the MAW, placing it to the right of the gun for easy firing. Once he's satisfied he takes a few minutes collecting brush and twigs, leaves and anything else he can find in the immediate area and scatter it around his makeshift gun implacement.

While Lifter prepares his gun emplacement, Countdown does a quick recce of the area. He scouts for two sizable trees, spaced enough that he can drop them in the path of the truck. True, the plan counts for only one downed tree, the second shall act as a backup. Using his internal GPS, he logs the co-ordinates of the trees to the pocket secreatary he's jacked into. When the all clear is given, he paces into the road by each tree, to mark the drop targets as well. Taking reference points, he calculates the height of each tree, and then determines where to place each charge, and what amount he'll need. That determined, he plants two charges with radio detonators. Before chosing frequencies, he scans the range of avaliable ones, conveying to the group a block of 2 megahurtz not to use for communications. Chosing from that block, he sets the frequencies for the pair of detonators.

Those selected, Countdown moves to the road itself, scouting out two suitable locations for placed charges, as per the contingency plan. When he has placed the charges, he covers them loosely, and marks each of their locations in his PocSec. He does his work quickly, silently, and efficiently, and when he's done, he finds himself a suitable tree. Scaling it, he rigs himself a climber's seat, and lies back in wait.

Trogdor finds a good place to wait, but the problem is making it so he can't be seen from the road. He is a big man and when he finally feels concealed enough he is lying on his stomach in the dirt. Well, at least he can see the road. He reaches into his pack and pulls out an energy bar. Munching on it he tries to think of a good way to use his powers to distract the people who may be travelling with the truck. If he can see through the windows of the truck, he'll be able to nail people inside of it with a chaotic world spell, that ought to mess them up pretty good.

Trogdor smiles as he takes another bite of his energy bar. This is going to be so easy.

Guessing that Bearclaw will also go along with the "hide and wait" plan:

Time passes. You expected the truck to show up by now. J.'s forest spirit is intently watching the shadows grow as the sun slowly drifts lower in the sky. Many of the smallest species of local wildlife seem to have accepted most of you as terrain and make no effort of hiding this conclusion until you swat them off of you. Fortunately, they are either harmless or don't realize that they could be a danger to you.

What is the bloody hang up?

"Zulu6 (J), it seems our target is late for his high-jacking. I'm beginning to suspect a duble-cross," says Douglas, into the communicator. "Keep your eye's to the rear every now and again,".

"I know I certainly will..." he mumbles to himself.

J: Comm check to all, "Read off by number and give suggestions or ideas why you think the truck is late and for what we should do." I wait for responses and think about the question. 'Maybe the truck was slowed up and is running late. Yeah, and I'm a toxic shaman. If I were driving that thing I would want to get to camp before dark. I hope we don't have to stay out in the bush to much longer. I don't mind short missions, but I would hate spending extended time in this crap. Just gotta stick it out until I finish my mission.'

As the sun sets I release my spirit after thanking him. When dusk has settled I summon another spirit quietly. Then return to keeping my attention focused on the area watching for any critters or other surprises.

Without stirring an inch from his spot overlooking the road, Bearclaw says "Zulu 6, this is one. I say we've got 3 possibilities. They had mechanical difficulties, they got tipped off we were here, or someone else got them before us. If it's the first or the last, walking back down the road to find out is a good idea, and if it's the middle one, walking back down the road to check it out will get us killed. Your call."
He silently opens a ration pack, and starts eating, making sure that all trash makes it back into the bag. No point in making it obvious he was here.

`Zulu Six this is Zulu Tree, could be as simple as a change in operational plan. Either that or the big nasty the villagers like to squack about is at play.`

Countdown hadn't moved so much as a muscle in the past few hours. The insect life had found a good home upon him, as he made no move to swat them away. A professional must be one with his surroundings. He barely moves to speak, his words subvocalized.

"Zulu 4 here," Trogdor replies. "I think some of us should take a nice quiet walk down the road and see if the truck is broke down or something. The rest of us can stay here and man the boom-booms. I'm willing to scout ahead or stay. But if the truck is a no show I say we hike back to camp and have a discussion with the commander. And who knows, maybe this does have something to do with the whatzit in the village."

Shaking his head Lifter chimes into the conversation, "Team, Zulu fife, everyone hold position. Zulu six, can you recon alpha sierra? Or send a whiskey to do so? No need to send zulu alpha if so, respond please." Lifter holds his position, the lmg barrel silently pointed center mass on the road.

J: "Good idea five, I'll send a wizzer up the road and see what's there. If I get a weird result I may check it out myself. Four, cover my body if I go astral to scout."

I summon a force 3 watcher and send it north up the road with the instruction to come back and tell me if it sees people moving, on or near the road. I then start working on a plan to get out of here fast and say, "everybody be ready to move if the drek hits the fan."

(edited to save time)

J: Growing impatient with my watcher, about 30 minutes after it leaves I speak to four, "cover my body please, I'm going to go see what the holdup is."

With that said, I sit down, lean back against a tree trunk, and take a break from the physical world. I always enjoyed astral flight when I was training. My concerns melt away as I flit to where three is perched in a tree. I start there and flit up the road at kilometer intervals. I plan to travel along the road to the north end of the map.

Reality blurrs past, and then you stop and look. Oh, there's the watcher, not making a lot of progress. Blurr and scout, blurr and scout.
After a little while of this, you pass the river. Still no sign of a truck, but you are rather certain that the large crocodile in the river is looking directly at you.
Up the road a little more. You find the truck. It appears to still be runnig, sitting in the road, and completely unmanned.

J: I investigate it completely. Including looking for evidence of magical activity or strong emotions.

The mites and other small insects seem to have cleaned up every bit of proof that the vehicle had once been manned. There is no lingering emotional state, if there ever was one, it has faded completely.

The cab is very open, whether by design or later modifications. The key is still in the ignition. The cargo appears intact.

[If you have any more specific questions about the truck, I will answer them]

J: I see a mystery, and the best part of mysteries is that I get to zip around some more. I a do 200 Meter circular search pattern with the truck as the center of the circle. I look for animals larger than a badger and any intelligent lifeforms. I also look for any weapons, bodies, or gear that might be in the vicinity of my search.

Wildlife seems to be very good at cleaning up evidence. Despite that, you see to the east a region where the astral does not look clear. Seems like ravenous little insects don't know how to eat up a background count.

J: Woohooo, clues!!! I remember back to magic school and think about what causes background counts. I then zip on over to the suspicious looking area in the east.

[moment of attentiveness in class flashback]"...and that is why we cannot make a portable hole like those in your juvenile RPGs. Now, back onto the syllabus. 'Background count' is a term used for any region of astral space that seems to be aligned differently than the norm. All magic in opposition to the background count will be more difficult, while magic that reflects the origins of the background count will be benefitted. A few cases of famous background..." You are brought back into the present as you ask yourself, "What's that howl?"

As I flit back to my body as fast as possible I consider what I heard and why it affected my so much. I think about what sort of creature has that ability. I then surmise that it or something like it stopped the truck, killed the occupants, and dragged the bodies somewhere. I try to organize my thoughts coherently, but my mind is still fragged from that horrible cursed howl. I hopefully get back to my body and take a moment to calm down.

J: I regain my composure and open the comm to speak to everyone. "Okay, the truck was abandonded for at least a day. I give details as we pack up. So let's prep to move out. We will leave when three meets up with us."

As we start packing I relate aspects of my story. "I found no people, no remains, no signs of fighting, and one empty truck. I searched around before I was driven off by some sort of weird critter. Anybody know anything about fear causing howls? Anyway, due to the presence of critters and the absence of people to ambush, I figure our job is done. How long ago is the timestamp on that sat. photo? On the other hand, if we want to go pick up or destroy the truck, I am not saying we can't."

He can hear the conversation at his wake in his mind," Yeah, he was stealthy, but that just meant it took us longer to find his remains. You know, the goo which was found spread about in the canopy, ripped into tattered, gory, half-eaten shreds. We did try to save all of what was there, but the shoe box got all soggy and gross, so we just dumped it in the latrine. If only he had made it to his group sooner..." Douglas had always been cursed with this demonic imagination.

Chesterfield springs silently from the trees in a clandestine dash for his comrades.

Bearclaw glides through the jungle with a swiftness that speaks of years in the bush. His senses fully alert for danger, he hears a macaw chewing on a nut 50 meters to his right, and smells the hunting jaguar 200 to 300 meters behind him. Comforted by what should be there, he keeps everything alert for something that shouldn't, or just as important, the lack of what should be. Almost invisible, except for his rapid dash across the road, Bearclaw arives at 6's location.

"I know a couple, mostly very bad juju. Part of our assignment was to make the truck vanish, we need to at least go and stash it in the woods." Before standing up Lifter scans the tree line, making sure he doesn't see anything hostile. Once he is certain that nothing is going to shoot at him he starts packing up his gear. All the ammo goes back into his pack. He unloads the maw, carefully putting the safety on before doing so. And finaly packs up his small cammo net. Once everything is in order slings the lmg across his chest. "Ready to move out."

J: "Okay, new plan: we travel up to the vehicle and destroy any evidence of it existing. Hopefully, we won't run into the things that killed its occupants, but we will be ready for anything. One, take point and get us there.Everybody else, stay within sight and silent."

When the group has started moving towards the truck site, I ask my spirit to conceal us.

`Zulu Tree, that's a negative on immediate extraction from this location. I have ordinance to recover.`

Countdown's not leaving behind valuable detonators. He has few enough as it is. For the first time in an hour he starts to move, lowering himself from his tree perch. He then moves to begin recovery.

Bearclaw, who'd already got to the road, turns and looks at J with one raised eyebrow.

J: Annoyed, "what part of get ready to move out did you not understand?"

To Bearclaw, "Hold up, give him five to grab his gear." I try to act calm but my annoyance shows.

"J, did you look inside the truck? Was the cargo still there?" Trogdor asks. He wonders who would want knock over an Azzie truck other than the rebels.

J: "The truck looked as though it was quickly abandoned. Oddly, the truck was still running and all the cargo was there. My best guess is that a magical attack forced them to jump out and run away... (or die)." I leave the last part unsaid and I think about what could kill armed guards instantly.

`And how irresponsible is leaving armed ordinance around the battlefield?`

Countdown's work is quick and methodical. He doesn't have to search in the dark for his handiwork, it's all tagged in his pocket secretary, which he's jacked into. Those co-ordinates and his internal GPS serve him better than memory ever could.

When he's done, he packs his gear away, and gives an all clear over the radio.

Lifter takes his position in the rear. The Ares made LMG is cradled in his massive arms, The nylon sling supporting most of the weight around his neck. He walks alertly, scanning the jungle for threats. He catches Bearclaws eyes at some point and nods understanding. It took Lifter nearly as long to make his ambush site look as if he had never been there, and recover all his equipment, as it had Bearclaw. J's request had been unreasonable, but Lifter kept his mouth shut. He had seen to many 'merc' outfits end in an internal fire fight over this kind of thing.

Trogdor keeps his eyes wide open, checking the area around the group as thoroughly as he can, especially the trees. This had been billed as an easy mission, but the turn it had taken had him a little paranoid. He can think of no reason why their employer might be setting them up, but it's a crazy world and sometimes bad things happen to good mercs for stupid reasons.

Traveling by road is much faster than fighting your way through the woods. Despite the large difference in distance traveled, it won't take much longer to get to the river than it took to get from camp to the road.

Traveling in the open is not entirely pleasant in this region however. The rustling in the brush is always distracting, but the silence just raises questions.

As you approach a slight curve to the right, a large object rolls across your path. Well, not very large, but about 1.5 meters in diameter, roughly a sphere.

Lifter dives off the side of the road into the natural gully. Reflexes kick in and he quickly scans the area for a threat.

Just before the object leaves the tree line, Bearclaw raises his left hand in a fist, the waves it back and forth with the hand pointing in the direction his arm is moving, almost as if he's trying to sweep his team-mates off the road.
Then, as the ball rolls onto the road, Bearclaw sprints to the left side of the road, past the ditch, and straight into the treeline, gun up and looking for a target.
Over the commlink, he says "shit, must be an ambush. Sorry guys, I didn't hear anything. I'll try to circle around and hit them from behind. You guys try to stay out of sight, and cover each other."

J: I notice Bearclaw waving us towards the edge of the road when something rolls onto the road. Rolls? I think to myself 'What have we gotten ourselves into now?' I dodge towards some sort of cover and hope I don't get hit first.

Trogdor drops flat on the road, covers his head, and begins to cast an armor spell on himself.