Scene 1.6 - A Jaunt Across London

A WWII Cthulhu adventure run by Sadohara
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Maclean

Scene 1.6 - A Jaunt Across London

Post by Maclean »

[OOC: Aaron, feel free to change the scene number and title to your liking]

Ronald MacLean watched the Colonel exit the room with a quizzical look. "He can't be serious," he muttered. He shook his head with a smirk and stood up to look at Wexman, MacTeague, and Crutcher.

"Well gents, looks like we'll be playing librarian tonight. I'm not sure what kind of bollocks the Colonel is referring to, but I'm curious to find out what's so important about these books."

MacLean pondered for a moment, quickly running his fingers through his short, wavy hair.

"I have a jeep waiting outside. Grab your gear and let's head out. Chief MacTeague, grab a radio. We'll signal to the Colonel when we've secured the books. Let's make this clean and quick."

He turned on his heel and exited the chamber.
MacTeague

Post by MacTeague »

MacTeague picked up his his radio as ordered and slung his pack over his sholder and headed out quickly after the RAF Officer.

Just a day ago MacTeague was in Liverpool on the HMCS Weyburn, which just had arrived in port after escourting another harrowing convoy of steamers from Halifax. He was looking forward to some brief shore leave and a ASDIC course before shipping out on the Weyburn back to Halifax.

Now he was secunded to some mad Colonel's detachment and told to rescue books and figth fires . . . on land. Not what the expert naval sonar and radio tech of the HMCS Weyburn had signed on for back in Toronto in 39. He was into hunting subs and bossing seamen around, not the occult. But he had to admit, his curioisity was perked.

There was a job to do, and it was time to get to it. That is what Petty Officers are about.

MacTeague looked back just before he left the basement and saw the other two perplexed comrads still by the table taking in what had just happened. "Look lively, don't you know there's a war on." He barked in his Toronto accent, then turned and chased after the RAF man. It was going to be a long night.
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Sadohara
One-Armed Skeleton
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Post by Sadohara »

The ride across London was jolting, but blessedly quick. With the raid, the streets were more empty than usual. SSgt Wexman drove with the urgency of a man seeking to do his best for his superior officers. While he said little, the grim determination on his face spoke loudly. Squadron Leader MacLean and Chief MacTeague checked their weapons. They'd had time to grab a Lee-Enfield standard issue infantry rifle, a Browning Automatic Rifle, a few grenades (because one never knows what to expect, SSgt. Wexman, had said), and a pair of .38 Webley revolvers from one of the escorts that had driven them to their meeting.

Crutcher sat silently in the rear of the vehicle, cradling the radio, a distant look in his eye.

Wexman stomped on the brakes, eliciting a squeal, and the vehicle slid to a halt.

"We're here, sirs. No. 8 Grange St." The SSgt pointed up the step to the darkened two-storey Victorian townhouse.
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