Sean and Berger both nurse their beers for a few minutes. Finally, Sean shot Berger a "look" when Paddy was busy. Actually, Berger was right there with the same look - he beat Sean to it, in fact. His danger sense had gone off about 5 minutes ago....

[GM] Sean has had 3 beers and 2 shots... and is feeling.... woozy. Notable, given his high drug and alcohol tolerance. Berger looks at Sean and looks concerned, then mad.

[Sean] Thinking as well as possible under current circumstances, he asks, "Paddy...is there a place around we could wash the dust off???"

[Paddy] "Why sure, ladd, just go over to the laundry area, they should have some hot water if you have a buck or two for the pot."

When they were alone, Berger whispered. "JFC! Did he slip you a mickey?"

[Sean] "Ya...I think so...how ya feeling?"

[Berger] "Not bad! I mean, the beer tastes good, and has a kick, but maybe that's the idea. You arent ON ANYTHING are you... I mean, well you know?..."

[Sean] "Not by choice."

[Berger] Berger collapsed, whacking his forehead on the broken picnic table that women were folding laundry on. "Now that ya mention it, I've gotta Fn headache!"

[Sean] "I'm ok for the moment...lucky for us I have the tolerence of a bull when it comes to drugs! HA!

[GM] Sean falls over -- cocky bastard Polock Irishman, Chuck! (GM was waiting for that -- he KNOWS you) A group of 3 attractive sweet young things laugh at Sean and Berger, pointing, and giggling some more.

The Irishman attempts to get up, but makes it only to his knees. At this point, Sean and Berger are near the laundry, about 100 m from Paddy's.

[Berger] Berger regained his footing. Complaining all the way, Berger helps Sean to his feet.

Sean vaccilated between going back to the bath house, going back to Paddy's, and just finding someplace to wait this out. Sometime later, he awoke in a cold, nearly-dark room, or cave. Hands and feet were bound with rope, and of course, the men's knives were gone....

===================

Sean just barely made out Berger's face. Berger said, "Quiet Sean, act like you're still asleep. How's the head?"

[Sean] Managed just one word, "Aching..."

[Berger] "Sorry, left my tylenol in the sidecar"

[Sean] "Ya... The sign said Freeland, no drugs..."

[Sean] "How are *you*... ya smacked your head pretty good"

[Berger] "Well, it really does hurt. But I didn't really pass out. Dunno why... But I figured I may as well act like I was gooned, so I could maybe see where they were gonna dump us. We're in a mine" Berger was busy doing something in the darkness, thankfully nothing too lewd...

[Sean] "What are you doing?"

[Berger] "Move over this way, s'more"

After he did so, Sean felt and heard Berger sawing on the ropes!

[Berger] "These boots are 2 sizes too big, and the soles had seperated awhile ago, so I put the space to use... Just lucky they stink too bad for anyone to want to take them or search them..."

[Sean] "Good job!"

Once they are freed, Berger runs a piece of a hacksaw (5" long ) thru Sean's hands.

[Berger] "Oh, and it gets better... This is for you, my friend." He hands Sean an icepick, shortened abit, with a bead glued on the blunt end, but pointy at the business end as a freshman gal's titties...

[Berger] Berger had cut through the hemp ropes, and freed Sean's hands in about 4 minutes. "Well that's the easy part... now what?"

[Sean] Tried to stand, but bumped his head on the low ceiling! Feeling the ceiling, it was low, and made of rock?

[Berger] "Oh, Sean, BTW, don't stand up, it's only about 5' to the rock roof.

[Sean] "Ya, I've discovered... thanks!"

[Berger] "Anytime spud"

[Sean] "I'm fresh out of farkin' ideas, and really pissed off!"

[Berger] "Yeah, me too. Sit down, shutup, and think... Clear your mind, or we'll end up deader sooner..."

[Sean] (to himself) "Jeezuz, Mary, and Joseph, we're in the pokey and this guy goes farkin metaphysical on me... "What do you think is happening...did you hear anything?"

[Berger] "Not alot. I dont think Paddy is in on this, though, at least not willingly. When they were haulin' us down here, he protested how they were kickin us around and shit. Really took our part. They cuffed him around abit... And threatened his granddaughter. She was one of those sexy chicks laughing at us when you blacked out. Hey, what were you guys saying in leprauchan-speak?"

[Sean] "I told him I had no ill will toward him, he said he knows...he wanted to help but probably fears his own well being"

[Berger] "Like I said, his own, and his granddaughter's. Anyway, we're not far inside the mine. no digging nearby, so I guess this is just a holding area before we become regular guests."

[Sean] "Stupid me! I got so wrapped up in stupid chidish hopes that I let my guard down...sorry!"

[Berger] "Childish hopes, what? you think Paddy is the Irish Santa Claus or sumpthin?"

[Sean] "No... but this is the area where the Mollie Maguires were started...I heard the bag pipes and hoped that this was a strong hold or something...

[Berger] "Aw, skip it. We were both careless. Hell, we should've ditched the bike and just made our way on foot. We could've stolen the first car we came across, and continued on. Hey, ya know, if we're leaving, the I say the earlier the better, but we need more info so we don't buy a crossbow bolt in the backs."

[Sean] "I thought for me it could be a place I could hang my hat after the misson was done -- be with my own kind for a change, ya know."

[Berger] " 'your own kind' ! Thanks for nothing, man!!! There is no rest for the wicked, my friend"

[Sean] "No offense...I just really miss home -- I have lost a lot and have been a loaner ever since...I guess part of me wanted to come in from the dark -- but you see my God is the Old Testament variety...I have a lot to atone for -- so sorry you got caught up in my Hell"

[Berger] "Aw, Sean, just remember -- my own mutineyed last winter. No where is safe, or even close to the same as it was before all of this. You go back to Ireland and some dude you knew and called a friend is probably sitting in your house wearing your robe reading your books and drinking your wine -- it's the way things are now..." Berger dug in the heel of his boot, and came up with a spool of dental floss.

[Sean] "Damn, no wonder you got tired walking here....you've got 20lbs of shit in your boots! Got a .45 in there?"

[Berger] ".. fraid not, Sean" He improvised a garrotte from the floss, doubling the thread back and forth with about 24" between 2 little sticks. "Floss can cut your fingers easily. a windpipe shouldn't be a prob... So how we gonna play this, ya big ape?"

[Sean] "Maybe we should wait for the guards to come back and take them hostage...walk out of here back to back w/ our human shields..."

[Berger] "Maybe. Provided whoever's in charge gives a f about them..."

[Berger] "Well they've got our stuff somewhere, but God knows where. I didn't see much on the guards for weapons. Clubs, crossbows, those swivel guns is all I guess. I think we'll get pounced as soon as we get going. It's cold, I'm guessing we're a few feet underground. All they have to do to keep us here is control the mine shaft, if that's where we are... don't know how far we could get dragging our human shields anyway. I think at least they bought the biker routine, so we wont be pumped for info.

[Sean] "I agree -- next question is once we get out then what...the bike is toast...do we steal a truck???"

[Berger] "Don't remember seeing alot of trucks out there, did you? They'd almost need one or 2, tho... for supplies, etc"

[Sean] "...and moving coal."

[Berger] "Yeah! Someone's doing business with them -- no 200 people need a whole coal mine full of coal... They're cooperating with someone. There'll be trucks, or some kind of transportation."

[GM] you hear a strange sound. like one of those windlass things used to lift an engine out of a car... chains, and gears clicking.

[Sean] "The guys back on the mountain must be wondering what has happened to us by now."

[Berger] "Yeah, we're overdue, but if they're smart, they'll give us a couple of days. They'd want to rescue us or something, but they have no idea which way I took us. I didn't want to be followed, cos, frankly, I think there's someone in there passing information to Stryfe, or someone who's our enemy, anyway.... We always seem to get boned on our operations lately...."

[GM[ The sound is pretty close. Within a half minute, 2 guards enter your little cave #1 has a club on thong at belt. #2 a DB shotgun, and torch in the off hand. Guard #1 approaches, #2 stands off at about 10 m.

Berger looked to be just sitting tight. Sean followed suit. Of course, it was killing Sean not to have his jaw wagging, so:

[Sean] "So are you guys the official welcome wagon or what?" Sean noticed Guard #1 carried 2 small pails. Again the wagging: "Whut, time for a urine sample?"

[Guard #1] "Shut up, dog. He threw the pails down roughly. The larger pail sloshes water on the ground, and the smaller spills contents onto the floor.

[Sean] "Eat my arse you fucking piece of Shite!" Sean spit on his shoe.

[Guard#1] Approached and whacked Sean on the left arm with club. It was a lame hit, though, and just stings a little."

[Berger] (glaring hotly at Sean) Berger "Hey leave him alone, you ape!"

[Sean] "Ya fn girl! My grandmother, dead mind ya, hits harder then that!"

[Guard#1] Swung again! This time he connected more solidly -- a thrust to the abdomen....6 points damage... that hurt, but Sean by no means was out of it. He was knocked back to the ground, and stunned (wind knocked out). Sean kept his hands together, and maintained the ruse of still being tied...

[Berger] "Cool it you guys... we'll do what you want, just leave us alone..."

The guards smiled cruelly, and leave. Ten seconds later Sean staggered to his feet.

Sean laughed to himself. Berger was not nearly so amused.

[Berger] "They see you standing up they'll know you arent tied! Don't antagonize them!" Berger looked at pails... It was water, and some greasy, gloppy stew. "Guess they expect us to put our faces in it, and eat this slop like pigs..."

Sean and Berger drank some water, and left the stew.

[Berger] "Greasy food bothers my ulcer, anyway. And I don't have any Tums in my boot. Do you think we could've taken them?"

[Sean] "If it weren't for the one with the Scattergun I would say yes"

[Berger] "That's what I thot, too. Well, if we wait much longer, they're gonna put us to work, and I think it'll be harder to escape from where ever that might be"

[Sean] "That would be a handy thing if we got it -- the shotgun. It would sure even things up..."

[Berger] "Well, I'll just telekinese it outta his hands when they come back, and whack them both with it to save a shell or two..."

After a few more minutes of discussion, the two put their hasty plan into motion...

They stepped out of the little cubby hole of a cave...and it was a straight corridor, one way... drafty -- they went about 40 meters, and reached a shaft, straight up and down. It looked to be nearly dawn, above, and by either man's guesstimation, they were 30 meters underground.

The chains of the windlass, clacked to and fro in the breeze. Both men looked up, and could almost read each other's mind.

[Sean] "Hellofa climb -- but do-able?

Berger was concerned that by grabbing one of the chains, that either man could get an express ride to the bottom if the mechanism was not locked. That meant grabbing both chains and hoping for the best. And a 30 m climb using chains damp with dew would be another risk in and of itself. Plus, simply climbing would make noise, and it would be a different noise than the elevator or basket would make when it moved with a load of people.

Sean agreed but supposed that if they ambushed the regular riders quickly and quietly enough, that he and Berger could take their places and continue upwards to the surface. As if on cue, there was movement below in the shaft, and the clink-clink-clinking of the chains indicated the elevator was coming up...

[Sean] "No time like the present, eh, Berger?..."

Both men steeled themselves for whoever was on the elevator, Sean with the icepick and Berger with the garrotte.

After an eternity that lasted perhaps a mere 45 seconds, the simple platform loomed into view. A few more pulls on the chain, and the upper third of the two men on board becames visible. One man locked the platform in place with 2x4s braced to it's corners, and while he was distracted with that, Berger and Sean pounced. Their two victims saw them milliseconds before the initial blows connected.

Sean's stab missed, but he kept his momentum going forward and into the man. Berger did about the same, and got tangled up in the man's combat harness. It turned out that this was the man with the shotgun from the earlier food delivery. Sean tried stabbing again for the man's throat, grabbing his wrist at the same time and twisting backward.

The man yelped at the icepick dug into his collarbone area instead, just as he wrested his club off of his belt. Berger's eyes enlarged as the man who braced the platform in place whipped up the sawed-off shotgun. Already the plan had gone to Hell as far as avoiding noise was concerned -- a blast from the shotgun would only add to the noise and commotion. Luckily, Berger ensnared the guy's hands and yanked skyward. At least if the man pulled the trigger, Berger wouldn't be caught in the blast. The noise would be a problem of another sort...

The man with the club swung wildly. Sean sidestepped, and grabbed him, not at throat as he had been trying, but by the front of the shirt. Sean then tried ramming the icepick into the man's ear.

Berger was about 4" taller than the guy with the shotgun, and yanked and twisted the shit out of his arms, after which the guy let out a full-fledged yell. The man was way off balance, and Berger saw his opening, and kicked to the balls and connected solidly. The man went right down to his hands and knees.

Sean maintained his grip on the front of the man's shirt, and stabbed to ear, but actually hit him in the side of neck! Sean felt the satisfying pulse of hot liquid cover the icepick- wielding hand. The man tried to yell, but only made a raspy, gasping sound.

The man with the shotgun was not about ready to give up. He flailed outward, and turned the shotgun into Berger's abdomen, jabbing him square in the ribs. Berger yelped in pain, and squinted his eyes for perhaps the last time... A second time the shotgun came up, just as Berger sidestomped the man's knee -- textbook perfect. Berger closed on the man, and wrestled him for the weapon...

Sean yanked the icepick from the man's neck , and stabbed him again, finally hitting the ear. The man stiffens, then goes limp, passed out from pain.

Berger and the shotgunner rolled around on the platform, shotgun between them. Berger was heavier and stronger than the other man, and ended up with the shotgun, but not before the guy bit Berger's neck -- blood spewed everywhere. Berger headbutted him, and connected with the man's chin, and the man goes out, cold. Berger kicked the man twice before he hit the platform, and the man reeled into the mine shaft, plummeting to the bottom with a soft thud a few seconds later...

[Berger] "Fn A !!! The bastard bit the shit outta my fn neck!... So much for stealthy and quiet. The whole place is gonna be down on us in a few seconds."

Sean ripped the shirt from the remaining guard, and quickly bandaged Berger's neck. It still bled moderately.

The two quickly stripped the remaining guard of equipment and weapons. There wasn't much -- a club, a hunting knife, the shotgun, and the poorly improvised bandolier, which was all but shredded from the wrestling match which just ocurred..

The two agreed to press onward, before the inevitable alert was able to formulate.

Berger took the shotgun, checked both barrels for shells, and scooped the extras into his pocket, holding two between the fingers of his off hand. All told, there were 15 rounds. Hardly enough to cause much of a ruckus, he thought. He replaced the icepick in his boot, and threaded the garrotte between his belt. Sean started hauling on the chains, and was soon joined by Berger. Soon, they had reached the top. There was an engine running close by, perhaps a large truck...

[Berger] (shaking with nerves, indulging in black humor) "Sean, however this ends up, I want you ta know, I still think you're an braindead asshole dirtbag biker."

[Sean] "Yeah well, I think you're a fargin' piece of Nazi-American trailer trash, so we're even. Shall we?..."

They stopped the platform about 5 feet short of the surface. This would give them cover and concealment while they had a look. The two peered over the lip of the minehead, Sean looking one way, Berger the other. It must have been perhaps 7-8 AM. The sun was just beginning to peak over the ridge to the east. They were at the top of some hill it seemed, but in a crater, very little natural cover nearby, but various bins, crates, carts on rails, etc. were scattered about. They quickly counted 8 people. Of them, 7 were visibly armed. A 2 1/2 ton truck was idling about 50 meters away (only the top of the cab was visible from here, but it was a military deuce and a half), and it sounded as if someone were working on it -- the engine kept missing every 6-8 seconds. Perhaps their ambush had not been detected after all.

They observed the armed men more carefully. There were 4 crossbows, an M16, 2 with hunting rifles... All were scattered around the minehead. Some were actively on guard duty, others were milling around, harrassing the mechanic about his lack of finesse with the engine. Two were supervising some prisoners who were pushing wheelbarrels. Both Sean and Berger swore quietly.

[GM-ooc] that thing before was NOT the tough part I advertised

[Sean] I guess not lol guess it is time to explore sean's death wish more closely

The two formed another hasty plan. Both literally prayed in their own fashion that they would live to tell about this adventure. And if they did actually make it, the trip to Scranton still was ahead. They were probably 15-20 miles away, but it might as well be 15,000 given the current circumstances.

The M16 and the hunting rifles were the worst threats, so they would be dealt with first. Berger would try to take them out, and hopefully Sean could get to some sort of ranged weapon while Berger covered him, or the rest of the garrison arrived, and lined both of them against a wall for a brief exit from this world...

It all happened so quickly. Berger opened up on the guard with the M16, spraying him and a nearby crossbowman with both barrels. Both men went down. Berger ducked down and reloaded while Sean watched for the other guards' reactions. A few looked the wrong direction, but both men with rifles had localized Berger's shots. They quickly returned fire, but missed.

Again, Berger popped up and fired, this time eliminating one of the rifle-armed men, and causing the other to take cover. He ducked down to take cover and reload. When he rose again to fire, Sean bolted out of the minehead. He was faster than one might expect someone of his size to be, and he headed directly for the M16 laying near the dead guard about 40 meters distant. A flurry of crossbow bolts whipped through the air. He felt one rip through his shirt, but thankfully it didn't dig into his flesh. Berger yelled, "No, Sean! Not yet ya crazy bastard!!!", as he dropped one of the crossbowmen with a nasty pattern of buckshot to the head.

Sean reached the M16, and went prone behind the guard's body. The remaining rifleman was also prone, and the two men duelled it out at nearly 120 meters. The rifleman was behind excellent cover (some sort of machinery?), and Sean's first two bursts ricocheted off of the metal. The other man's shots were close, but not close enough as Sean pumped a third burst into his head and chest. With that, Berger was up and out of the minehead, racing for the newly-ownerless weapon. He reached it, and shot down two more crossbowmen with quick shots. Switching to semi-auto, Sean finished another.

A rapidfire burst from a MG somewhere nearby cut through the morning. Sean fired at another guard who appeared over the crest of the crater, and Berger shot another one dead as he rounded the hill. Berger waved Sean on, realizing Sean was actually heading toward the stone compound, which was uphill from their location. With all of the people there, that would be a battle they could never win. So far their luck had held. Maybe escape was in the cards...

Sean fired one last burst from the M16, grabbed up a bandolier from the dead guard, changed magazines, and sprinted to where Berger was. Was it true that they were almost out of this mess? It was encouraging that it was a downhill run to get away from this place. Sean stopped over behind some crates and caught his breath. The smoking and drinking would have to go, fer sure. It slowed him down, and one thing he could not afford to be in this situation was slow.

He sprinted halfway to Berger, about 100 meters, when the MG on the stubby tower overlooking the POW enclosure and minehead again barked. Sean hadn't even seen it from his earlier positions due to the angle, but once he rounded the lip of the crater, he saw why Berger was shooting in that direction. The MG was kicking up clods of earth all around Berger, but Berger was behind a ore cart which seemed to give him good protection. Sean, waited, breathed, and then buzzed off half a clip at the tower, and dropped the gunner!

He then ran the rest of the way to Berger, when he was tripped up, spun, and crashed to the ground, holding his ankle. It spouted blood and felt broken! It was only then that he heard the chattering of the M60. Someone else must've brought it back into action, cursed Sean. Berger collared the big man, and somehow dragged him out of the line of fire, behind the ore cart.

[Berger] "Can ya make it? I'll help ya!"

[Sean] Sean knew it was serious from the amount of blood already staining his boot, pants, and the ground. "It's broken, and spoutin' like a friggin' fountain." He paused. "Get...."

Berger looked at him in disbelief.

[Sean] "Go on, get going. The mission. Scranton. I don't know the way, and I don't know what needs said to the officers and gentlemen there at HQ. We came this far to do something, and you need to do it. I would only hold you back. Get going while you can."

[Berger] "C'mon, it's not that bad. You'd help me get out if it were the other way 'round!"

[Sean] "Yeah, well it AINT! And I might leave your ass to save me own, at least I might've up to a few days ago. I'd slow ya down, and then bleed out, and you'd get caught cryin' over me cold dead bod. So forget it. Don't waste time and get going. And send a couple dozen of these bastards to Hell..."

Berger knew the man was right. He didn't have to like it. He just had to do it.

[Berger] "I'll be back for ya, Sean. Just keep alive till I can. Do what they say, and keep that smart- assed spudmonkey mouth of yours shut. Don't antagonize them like I know you will... I'll be back. I SWEAR IT!!!"

[Sean] "Yeah, I'll watch what I say to these bastards, as long as you're comin' back for me and all. Now take care, and get going -- you've already wasted way to long with this sappy goodbye. See ya later."

With that, Berger grabbed up the M16 and bandoliers and sprinted downhill. A few seconds later, Sean heard a few quick bursts, probably the M16. Then a small explosion, like a grenade. A few more single shots, and then nothing....

Berger must really be givin' it to these bastards! Good for him. He took off his shirt, and bound the aching ankle, putting pressure on it to slow the bleeding. But the pressure only aggrevated the other damage to the area. Sean realized this was probably it. From what he'd seen of these people, they might not give him any medical treatment. Who could blame him -- the equipment and supplies were rare, so why should they expend them on someone who just shot up 10-12 of the garrison's troopers?

The guards crept up on Sean's position sheepishly. Sean put his hands in the air, and said, "I'm all yours, governour. I surrender.... Don't shoot. I'm unarmed."

Sean relected on the one truly selfless thing he had done for someone. Berger, or more correctly, everyone back at Halfway Dam deserved this chance. Without inflating his own ego too much, it gave him a certain sense of pride to have bought Berger some time, time to get through to HQ, so that some sort of link could be formed between the 3/103rd and DIV HQ. Maybe he could find a home with those people after all. Maybe some other life changes would be forthcoming. Nah, I'll be needing some candies for this fargin ankle. Feels like every bone in there must be shattered. It'll be a bitch to walk for awhile. It would be nice to be free and just ride the Harley again with Guiness at me side. He's such a better conversationalist than Berger. And smells better, too...

The troops loomed closer.

[Sean] "Hey, governour, would ya have a pint o-lager handy, I'm abit parched."

A rifle butt came crashing down on Sean's skull. All went black...