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If you go down to the woods today.......


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Right now, somewhere in Russia, an arms dealer is screaming at the top of his lungs.

Interesting point... make a good premise for a novel. Toss in a crazy local small town mayor (with a real cute daughter) and a disgruntled investigative reporter (either newly sober or recently drunk again!) and you've got a good story to pitch.

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Interesting point... make a good premise for a novel. Toss in a crazy local small town mayor (with a real cute daughter) and a disgruntled investigative reporter (either newly sober or recently drunk again!) and you've got a good story to pitch.

Or at least a really, really familiar one. Sort of like a pair of old shoes.

Michael

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No, he's newly sober, but on the edge. And the mayor's daughter? Yeah, they'd had something, back when he was an officer on the up and coming in the security service. Until he ran into the corruption of the officials over him. He was too much of an idealist. They sent him to Afghanistan. Whatever happened there is what drove him to drink...

;)

Ken

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No, he's newly sober, but on the edge. And the mayor's daughter? Yeah, they'd had something, back when he was an officer on the up and coming in the security service. Until he ran into the corruption of the officials over him. He was too much of an idealist. They sent him to Afghanistan. Whatever happened there is what drove him to drink...

Well, at least that almost shows a slight tinge of imagination.

Michael

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...as the SWAT team closed on the house, they rushed from car to bush to tree until, hugging the front wall, they'd stacked to the side of the front door. Breathing heavily, adrenalin pumping through their veins, they were ready. Safeties off, AK-74's at the ready, this is what they'd trained for.

The SWAT storm group leader, Leonid, got the shoulder squeeze. He knew each of the men behind him was ready. All they needed was the on scene commander's go ahead. Misha was a fool. Placed in charge of the men who did the real work, the son-in-law of a well-placed politician, he was in command! Leonid knew he needed the okay from Misha. Misha, in the well-protected command BMP-3, just across the road. Leonid keyed his mike, ready to ask for permission.

Leonid, and all the rest, focused solely on the doors and windows of the house they were about to storm, failed to notice the hum of an electric motor emanate from the T-72 parked in the driveway.

No one noticed as the turret slowly, ever so slowly, slewed until the barrel was pointing at Misha's command and control BMP...

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Holy crap! T-80s... man, I was expecting T-34/85s or T-54s... you know, something really old. But near top of the line stuff? Crazy!

Ironically I was in the woods yesterday getting firewood so I don't freeze while making CM games next winter. I can definitely say I have found nothing like this anywhere. There are two abandoned cars from the 1960s nearby, but the trees growing up through them indicate that they might not be in running condition :D

Steve

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