Mission 6/7 EndGame: The Hunters and the Hunted
- Who: Wilma Ripley
Where: Marrah Mountains
When: 6:26 p.m. (five minutes and counting until impact)
Wilma paused to glance back at the rebels being rounded up and tossed into the back of the troop transport vehicle. In the last three minutes, Wilma had thought she was going to die, knew she would be rescued and had found religion at the butt of some rebels gun before he suddenly sprouted a blood bullet-sized hole in the center of it.
Wilma still didn't know who had taken the shot that saved her life, but there would be time to sort that all out later - when they weren't about to be bombarded with a redirected missile.
"Five minutes," Wilma shouted to the two team members who were appointed to getting the hostages out of dodge.
Dr. Chinua had already left with part of the team to return to the refugee camp. All that was missing now was the warlord himself. Since Wilma didn't know what happened to him, or if he had been captured, she called over the two people who could best answer that question.
"Reaper, Two-Tribes!" she shouted.
The camp was in disarray and somehow in the middle of it Dr. Adams had found time to try and patch some people up before hopping into the HumVee with Carlos and the others.
Wilma just shook her head as she looked around. What a waste, she thought. She glanced at her watch.
"Four minutes!" she shouted, knowing the others could hear her but couldn't stop to acknowledge what she was saying.
In the truth of matters, they only had two minutes to get on the road. They would have to at least get about 1000 feet away not to be caught in the blast zone.
Wilma spotted Two-Tribes and Reaper coming towards her and headed towards the only vehicle left, one they would share down off the mountain.
"Prince Akello?" she asked them when she slipped inside on the passenger side. Two-Tribes took driver side and Reaper was left with point.
Wilma couldn't wait to hear what happened to the big, bad warlord.
OOC: Tag to all. We're ending this one finally!
- Who: Seamus Shaw (Irish)
Where: Darfur Refugee Camp
Location: UN Communication Tent
When: 6:39 p.m.
Seamus Shaw came out of the tent barking orders. "We got incoming!" he yelled to a couple of security officers running across the area directly in front of the tent. "St. Gerald, Johanssen, make way for the team's return."
Seamus turned and started for the massive tented hospital. "Chinua's on his way back," he said to one of the nurses there. "We also got other incoming wounded."
"I'll set them up away from the sick, Sir," said one of the African nurses. Her white headwrap was askew on her head, and she was bleeding from a headwound.
Seamus moved to help her, but she held him off with a hand. "No, Sir, do not touch me," she insisted. "I'm HIV position."
Seamus nodded taking a quick step back. "Why are you still working?"
"Who else will, if I do not," said the nurse holding her head high.
But as Seamus stepped back further, he noticed she was interacting with anyone else physically, just giving out orders to the other nurses and medical staff.
Seamus suddenly had more respect for her, to be able to deal with the facts about her life, and eventually her death, and still work to help others, he admired her tenacity.
But he couldn't take long to admire it. He had to move on. Gears was standing outside, talking to someone over his short-range radio.
"Someone give me a destination," he was calling. "A little support would be nice." Bullets shot by him as he ducked and weaved.
Seamus lifted his .45 and shot at the lone rebel still firing as he tried to flee. Shaw nailed him in the arm.
"They don't like being shot at, do they?" Gears commented.
"No, they sure as hell don't," Shaw said with distain. "But they never do. Bullies always like being the ones inflicting the pain, but never on the receiving end."
Seamus shook his head as he called to more security officers. "Someone go take out the trash," he said in his thick Irish baroque.
The radio cracked with more statis and Sarah Lien's voice came over loud and clear.
"Okay, so when do we pack up and go home? I mean, I like hanging around here as much as the next disaffected sunlight-hater, but I have some vested interests that I'd like to get back to..." said the hacker. "Not complaining or anything, just asking..."
Seamus smiled to himlself. "You know what they say, Pandora," he quipped moving across the area. "Ask and ye shall receive...C'mon in, Team. This mission is over."